You'll Be With Me
by kaly
Summary: Sam and John create a life together.
1. part one

Title: You'll Be With Me  
Author: kaly (razrbkr@juno.com)  
Homepage: Kalynn's Fan Fiction - XFiles, Profiler, Star Wars: TPM, Hercules, Young Hercules, Harry Potter, Xmen: http://www.geocities.com/kalyw  
Rating: PG  
Archive: pfa (if it's still accepting)  
Classification: angst, SJR  
Summary: Sam and John and a life together.  
  
disclaimer: once upon a time there were two characters and their names were sam and john. However, TPTB won't let them be together, and so for now believers can't live happily ever after. That is why we have fan fiction. The end. They are still not mine. However, I will gladly take John in the form of a donation! ;-)  
  
rating: PG (minor language and angst)  
  
notes: okay, I'm taking a stab at this. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping it works :-) Just a warning, this probably won't be everyone's cup of tea, it's starting out light, but it has great potential of really being on the angsty end. I'm putting a tear-jerker warning on this one, you've been warned. :-) Oh, and by the way, it's the longest thing I've ever written by *far* so I hope you stick with me! Either way, I hope you enjoy it.  
  
FYI: I'm not exactly sure how old Chloe is these days. I'm not even sure she exists outside of soccer camp. Thus, I wasn't sure how old to write her to be. Although this story is set in a somewhat future time range (depends on how you look at it, could just be alternate universe) I'm going more for a 8 or 10 yr old range here.  
  
  
You'll Be With Me  
  
  
There was nothing unusual about that summer day when it started. Sam woke up, able to hear the birds singing outside her window. Sitting up in bed, she stretched her arms up over her head. She glanced out her bedroom window, and reveled in the sight of the suburban neighborhood that she and Chloe lived in.  
  
For so many years her life, even her home had been decided by Jack. It was only now, after both the imposter and the real Jack had been incarcerated that she was truly free. A smile on her face, she quickly got out of bed and went to wake up Chloe.  
  
An hour later, she was dressed for work, and was helping Chloe find her missing sandal. "Here it is," she called out, standing up from behind Chloe's bed.  
  
"I wonder how it got under there?" the young girl asked as innocently as she could manage.  
  
Sam managed to conceal her laughter. "Sandal monster?"  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes. "I doubt that, Mom."  
  
"Could it be that you forgot to put it up the last time you wore them?" Sam asked, mirth glowing in her eyes.  
  
As she pulled on the sandal, Chloe avoided the question. "Better hurry or I'll miss the bus." She laughed as she left the room.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?" She couldn't help but ask. Even though she felt safer with Jack finally out of the picture, she was still reluctant to let go completely.  
  
The girl turned to look at her mom, and stood with her hands on her hips. "I want to be like everyone else at school, Mom."  
  
"And everyone else rides the bus," Sam guessed. Chloe nodded eagerly, and Sam found herself relenting. "Okay, but you're right. You better hurry."  
  
Rolling her eyes, Chloe responded as she ran down the stairs. "That's what I said in the first place."  
  
Sam smiled and followed Chloe down the stairs. "No running in the house, though. I don't care how late you are."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," she said, and gave Sam a kiss on the cheek before skipping through the front door toward the bus stop.  
  
Sam watched Chloe skip all the way to the bus stop, where she ran into several girls her own age and began to talk eagerly. Closing the door, Sam walked into her study and pushed all of the papers she would need at the office into her attache case. A few moments later she was on her way into downtown Atlanta.  
  
***  
  
When his alarm sounded, John grumbled. He reached an arm out from under the covers and slapped the alarm. The harsh noise abated, he lay under the covers with his eyes closed for a few minutes. Yawning, he forced himself to get out of bed before he fell back asleep and was late for work again.  
  
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he had just finished brushing his teeth when he looked closely at his reflection. "Grant, I'd say it's about time for a haircut." He muttered to himself as he ran a hand through the unruly curls.  
  
After making a mental note to get a haircut, as had become a ritual for the past several mornings, he stepped into the shower. For a few minutes he stood under the steaming water, not wanting to move. Never a morning person, John put his face into the spray, trying to wake up.  
  
Emerging from the shower a short time later, John grabbed a towel and headed back into his bedroom. After picking out a suit for the day, he dressed quickly and went back into the bathroom to try and control his hair.  
  
When he walked into the living room, he glanced at the clock and was relieved to see that he had enough time to make some coffee. He was disappointed a little while later, however, when after rummaging in the kitchen he discovered that he was out of coffee.  
  
"Oh, this is gonna be a great day," he muttered, "I can just see it already." Rubbing his hands over his eyes in an attempt to stay awake, he grabbed his car keys and locked the apartment door behind him.  
  
***  
  
The morning briefing was short, the result of a temporary lull in cases. "Anything else, Georgie?" Bailey looked at the computer genius as he spoke.  
  
George shook his head. "Not for the moment." George laughed. "But that's a good thing."  
  
"A hard to believe thing, is more like it," John said, grinning.  
  
"Well," Bailey said, standing up. "We have to take what we can get."  
  
Grace smiled and stood. "I like the idea, personally."  
  
Sam was looking at the final paperwork for their last case. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Grace, we all do."  
  
"So, go catch up on paperwork." Bailey's gaze settled on John when he said the words.  
  
The younger agent half-laughed, feigning innocence. "What are you looking at me for?"  
  
"Nothing." Bailey laughed. "Just waiting on your paperwork from the Burns case."  
  
George grinned. "Ouch, John. That was three weeks ago."  
  
"Quality takes time, George." John shifted from innocence to self-defense fluidly.  
  
Shaking her head, Grace smiled. "Are you sure that's quality and not quantity? I've seen some of your notes."  
  
"Why Grace, I'm hurt," John said, mock offense of his face.  
  
George stopped typing on his computer keyboard to look over at John. "You're not in as much pain as we are. That shirt is blinding." To emphasize his point, he covered his eyes with his hand.  
  
Sam laughed, finally drawn into the conversation. "He has a point, John. Where did you get all of these clothes all of a sudden?"  
  
John turned to look at Sam, a daring smile on his face. "Was that Dr. Waters asking me about my fashion sense?"  
  
"Lack thereof, actually," Sam baited.  
  
While they were distracted discussing John's choice of wardrobe, Bailey and Grace made a silent exit, not noticed by the three remaining agents.  
  
"Barnum and Bailey have a sale, John?" Sam asked.  
  
John laughed, surprised by Sam's change in character. "You did *not* just say that."  
  
"Maybe that's where he got the hair." George managed a straight face as he spoke, pointing to John's head with his pencil.  
  
The outnumbered agent turned his attention to stare at George. "So I need a hair cut, so what. What is this? Pick on Grant day?"  
  
"No, but it should be," George baited. Not letting them be distracted, George persisted. "Back to your hair, are you *ever* going to get it cut?"  
  
John nodded, not managing to look as sure as he'd like. "If I can ever remember to make an appointment."  
  
"I could do it," Sam offered, glancing up from her notes.  
  
George and John laughed, exchanging a disbelieving glance. "You?" John finally managed to ask.  
  
Sam nodded, somewhat bewildered. "Why not?"  
  
"No offense, Sam, but I'd rather not be scalped."  
  
Smiling, Sam replied. "Who said anything about scalping?" She paused for a moment, enjoying the shocked looks that passed across her colleagues' faces. "Besides, you could always buy that hair in a can they advertise on television." John opened his mouth to reply, but was held off. "I'm kidding, John."  
  
"So say you know something about cutting hair," John hedged. "Why the sudden offer?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Some things just happen I suppose."  
  
"And you really know what you're doing?"  
  
Fighting her laughter, Sam responded, holding her hand up in the Girl Scout salute. "I promise, I know how to cut hair. So do you want a free hair treatment or what?"  
  
John looked at Sam wearily. "I suppose I could trust you . . ."  
  
"John Grant, sometimes I swear you are the most annoying man I know."  
  
"I'm kidding, Sam." His comment was similar to hers from earlier. "So, if this experiment were take place, when would that be?"  
  
Sam glanced at her planner before responding, "How about tonight? You never know when a case will pop up."  
  
"And you never know if he'll back out." George offered, not so helpfully for John, from behind his computer.  
  
Sam laughed, glancing at where George sat with a grin on his face, but spoke to John. "So?"  
  
After a moment, John nodded hesitantly. "Okay, tonight it is then. What time?"  
  
Sam shrugged her shoulders. "How about seven? You can eat dinner with me and Chlo."  
  
John replied as he stood. "Seven it is then, but right now I better go find those Burns case papers before Bailey hunts me down."  
  
After John had disappeared from the break room, George peered around his computer at Sam. "Do you really know how to cut hair, Sam?"  
  
"Why is that so hard to believe?" She laughed, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," George said. "I just don't see that as something they teach you in med school."  
  
With a mysterious smile, Sam stood. "You might be surprised just what you can learn in med school, George."  
  
Watching her walk out of the briefing room, George laughed. "I'll bet."  
  
***  
  
"What's this I hear about you cutting John's hair?" Bailey asked, sticking his head in Sam's office some time after the meeting had ended.  
  
Smiling, Sam looked up at the senior agent, motioning him toward a seat. "Why, what have you heard?"  
  
Bailey grinned. "Just something from George about you offering to help John out. Although I believe John's word for it was scalping."  
  
Tapping her pen on the desk, Sam smiled evilly. "I think I'll tell him I messed up just to scare him."  
  
Watching Sam closely, Bailey asked, "I didn't realize that you and John were so close."  
  
"Close?" Sam asked, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean? We've been friends for a while now."  
  
"I know, this just sounded a little strange." He stood.  
  
Sam placed her pen down, and folded her hands. "If living with Jack taught me anything, it was not to overlook the things I have right here, Bailey. Thanks to Jack I have a very few friends. John happens to be one of them."  
  
Bailey nodded. "All right, Sam. I didn't mean for this to sound like an interrogation."  
  
"No harm done," Sam responded.  
  
Bailey stopped to stand in the doorway, and turned. "I'll let you get back to work."  
  
"Thanks, Bailey." After he closed the door, she picked her pen back up and started rereading the profile she had been working on earlier.  
  
***  
  
"What was that all about, do you think?" Grace asked, able to see the interaction between Bailey and Sam from where she and George sat.  
  
George shrugged his shoulders. "Looks like Bailey was getting a little protective again."  
  
Grace nodded. "Yeah, but protect her from whom?"  
  
"My guess?" George asked, glancing at the medical examiner. "That would be the man in the hideous orange shirt."  
  
Grace smiled. "Maybe this time she doesn't need protecting."  
  
"Yeah, well, the way I see it, it's like a father not wanting to let his daughter go out on a date with the fast talking boy down the street," George observed.  
  
"And you think that Bailey is that father?" Grace asked, laughing. She paused, thinking for a moment. "You might have a point there."  
  
Smirking, George crossed his arms. "I usually do."  
  
Grace punched George lightly on the arm. "But I thought it was just a haircut."  
  
"Maybe that's all it is," George observed dryly. "But I wouldn't hedge my bets if you know what I mean."  
  
"It could be good for both of them," Grace commented. "I don't think Sam's been out with anyone since the prosecutor."  
  
George laughed. "I can't remember the last time John went out with some one for more than one night."  
  
"George, that's awful."  
  
"Maybe, but it's true."  
  
Grace laughed. "You're probably right." Before George could respond, she smiled, laying her hand on his shoulder. "Yes dear, you usually are."  
  
During their conversation neither agent noticed Bailey walk up behind them. "Now I know we need a case." The two startled agents' gazes met his. "You've got nothing better to do than gossip about your coworkers."  
  
"Come on, Bailey," George prodded. "Aren't you just a little bit curious?"  
  
"I'm not in the habit of speculating about my agents, Georgie." Bailey cleared his throat.  
  
Grace looked at Bailey skeptically. "But?"  
  
Bailey grinned slyly. "But I think she doth protest too much."  
  
"Wonder if she knows?" George asked.  
  
Grace laughed. "I've known for months. Too bad I didn't mention it to her."  
  
From where they stood, they could see Sam still sitting in her office and John working at his desk. After a moment, Bailey broke the silence. "I hate to break up this *research*, but don't you two have actual work to do?"  
  
"Gee, Dad, do I have to finish my homework before I go out and play?" George baited, grinning.  
  
Bailey met his challenge. "Sorry, but it's that or go to bed without supper."  
  
"On that note. . ." Grace laughed. "I think I'll leave before he tells me I can't go out on my hot date with Morgan tonight."  
  
Bailey laughed. "Get to work you two."  
  
***  
  
Oblivious to his being watched, John was busy digging through his desk in search of his missing Burns case notes. He had put off trying to find them for most of the day, and was now in a rush to turn them in before it was time to leave.  
  
Glancing at his watch, John was relieved to find out that he still had well over an hour to find the papers and turn them in to Bailey. On his desk sat most of the notes he could remember having, but he knew that one sheet was missing. He had almost given up finding it when he saw it tucked away in a lower drawer.  
  
"Gotcha," he said with a triumphant grin as he pulled the sheet loose and stacked it with the others.  
  
Smoothing out the papers as best he could, he placed them in a folder and walked to Bailey's office. After knocking on the door, he waited for Bailey to respond.  
  
"Come in," the gruff voice called out.  
  
Pushing the door open, John stuck his head inside the office. He then walked over to stand in front of Bailey's desk. "Here are the Burns case notes you wanted."  
  
Taking the offered folder from John, Bailey managed to hide a smile. "And only two weeks too late." Glancing at the notes, he added, "I must say John, interesting work."  
  
"I got the guy, didn't I?"  
  
Bailey nodded. "And now maybe we can prosecute him."  
  
John ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly. "It's not like the justice system is fast, either way, Bailey."  
  
Seeing John fumble with his hair, Bailey's lecture was momentarily forgotten. "So? Ready to lose all of that hair?"  
  
"What?" John asked, caught off guard by the change in topic.  
  
"Oh, nothing."  
  
John shook his head, replying sarcastically. "I'm nervous enough without your messing with my head, thanks."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll do fine." Bailey paused, "Besides, it will grow back."  
  
John exhaled slowly. "Your confidence is overwhelming."  
  
The senior agent glanced over the papers one last time. "This looks in order. It's pretty slow around here, why don't you go ahead and leave?"  
  
John's surprise showed on his face. "You mean cut out early?"  
  
"Why not." Bailey grinned. "After all, you've got a date."  
  
"It's not a date," John said quickly as he walked out of the office.  
  
After the door closed behind him, Bailey laughed. "Sure it's not."  
  
***  
  
Sam had just pulled a loaf of garlic bread out of the oven when the front door bell chimed. Placing the steaming bread down on the stove, she removed the oven mit from her hand and went to answer the door.  
  
When she opened the door, she smiled at John. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking somewhat lost. "Come in." She motioned into the house.  
  
A relieved smile broke on John's face. "Thanks. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to bring anything." He glanced around the house. Ever since Sam had moved out of the firehouse, he had only been to see her once or twice. "Nice house."  
  
"Thanks." Sam walked back into the kitchen. "What would you like to drink?"  
  
"Whatever you've got is fine," he said, taking the chance to look around the tidy living room.  
  
When Sam returned from the kitchen, she was carrying two glasses of iced tea. "Here you go," she said, handing John one of the glasses.  
  
"So where's Chloe?" John asked, grinning. "I never picked her to be this quiet."  
  
Sam laughed. "She's at a friend's house." She glanced at the clock. "In fact, they should be here anytime now."  
  
John nodded, and took a drink of the tea. "So, you really want to cut my hair . . ." He risked a glance at Sam.  
  
Recognizing the teasing glint in his eye, Sam managed a straight face. "You wanted the Michael Jordan look, right?"  
  
John nearly choked on the tea he was drinking, and shook his head as he wiped tea from his chin. "You're cruel, do you know that?"  
  
Sam laughed, but didn't respond because at that moment, Chloe rushed in the front door. "John!" she called out, running into the living room. "Mom said you were coming over!"  
  
Sitting his glass down on a coaster, John smiled. "You got it kiddo. I had to come see my favorite girl, right?"   
  
Chloe's laughter increased when John picked her up in a giant bear hug. While John was still holding Chloe, she reached over and ruffled his hair. "Yep, I'd say it's time for a trim." She giggled.  
  
"I suppose you're right." John sighed dramatically. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he glanced sideways at Sam, who was walking back into the kitchen. "So, does your mom know what she's doing?" When Chloe nodded confidently, John grinned. "Then I suppose I'll let her cut my hair."  
  
Sam, who had went into the kitchen to check on the spaghetti sauce, walked back into the living room in time to hear John's last comment. "I think I'll not ask what you two were talking about," she said, smiling.  
  
Still giggling, Chloe said, "Just as well, you probably don't want to know."  
  
"Oh, well then." Sam laughed. "It's just as well that you need to go and wash up for dinner, then."  
  
"Aw, Mom," Chloe said, as John dropped her back onto her feet.  
  
After Chloe had disappeared upstairs, John turned to Sam. "So, what's for dinner?"  
  
"Spaghetti. You do like spaghetti, right?"  
  
"Are you kidding?" he asked with a laugh. "I'm a bachelor. I'll eat anything as long as it's not green or moving on its own."  
  
Sam shook her head, and commented dryly. "Then I guess the salad was a waste, huh?"  
  
John flashed her a brilliant smile. "No salad is a waste if it has croutons."  
  
"You are definitely a hard one to figure out." Sam laughed, shaking her head.   
  
A moment later, they watched as Chloe hurried down the stairs.  
  
As they were walking into the kitchen, John grinned. "Yeah, but it adds to the ol' Grant charm."  
  
Placing the bread on the table and sitting down, Sam glanced at John. "So that's what you call it."  
  
"Did you hear what she just said to me?" John looked to Chloe melodramatically, who laughed. He turned to look at Sam. "So are we going to eat, or are you going to insult me some more?"  
  
Sam smiled at John's attempt at a serious face. Sam grinned. "Go for it big man, dig in."  
  
***  
  
"If you would hold still, I wouldn't be as likely to scalp you." Sam had scissors in one hand, and forcing John to look forward with the other. "Then again, maybe you're hoping to score some pity at work if I mangle your curls here," she baited.  
  
John looked ahead, but tried his best to try and see his reflection on the shiny refrigerator. He mumbled, "Cut it a little closer to my ear next time, will ya?"  
  
"Baby. It was just a little nick," Sam said, biting her lip to keep from smiling.  
  
John laughed. "It's a good thing you're not a practicing doctor. I can imagine what your bedside manner would be like."  
  
"Only when I had to deal with patients like you," Sam observed dryly. "I'm sorry, sir. But that ear will have to come off." She taunted John while steadily trimming his hair.  
  
"You tried, I'll give you that." John spoke dryly, although his grin betrayed his seriousness.  
  
A moment later, Sam handed John a mirror. "Here, tell me what you think."  
  
John took the mirror, and Sam stood back, waiting for whatever blunt observation would come out of his mouth next. Instead, John whistled softly. "Not bad. I'm impressed."  
  
Taken aback by his comment, Sam laughed. "You're serious." It was more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Yeah," he said, still holding the mirror to see his hair. "Where'd you learn to do that?"  
  
Her smile fading, Sam replied. "When Tom and I first got married, I would cut his hair."  
  
John turned, regretting the subdued look on Sam's face. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."  
  
"That's okay," Sam said. She smiled faintly. "You should have see it the first time I tried. You think *you* were worried about scalping."  
  
"That bad?" John asked, smiling softly.  
  
Sam grinned and shook her head. "Worse."  
  
Chloe, who had been upstairs doing homework, chose that moment to run into the room. "Can we watch a video now?"  
  
"Have you finished your math?" Sam asked. When Chloe nodded, Sam glanced at John. "What do you say? Want to watch a movie?"  
  
Chloe looked at John expectantly. "Who can say no to a face like that?" he asked with a grin, pointing at Chloe.  
  
Sam laughed. "You two go argue over a movie and I'll clean up in here."  
  
"Want me to help?" John asked, standing and removing the towel from around his neck.  
  
Sam grinned. "You have enough of a battle ahead over what movie to watch. The two of you will probably still be arguing when I get in there."  
  
John nodded. "See ya in a bit then." After speaking, he walked out of the kitchen. All the while, he was wondering where his last comment had come from. After all, he was only going into the next room. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he grinned when he spotted Chloe digging through a large video case.  
  
"So what are we watching?" John asked, kneeling beside Chloe.  
  
She pulled a box from the shelf, and held it up for John to see. "Little Women?" she asked almost shyly.  
  
He heard Sam's laughter in the kitchen when he replied. "Why don't we see what else we can find in here?"  
  
When Sam emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, she was surprised to see the two of them already sitting in front of the television. "So, what did you pick?"  
  
"Little Women!" Chloe exclaimed.  
  
Disbelievingly, Sam looked at John. "All I can say is that I wish I could be that stubborn in the interrogation room."  
  
***  
  
When the movie ended, Chloe was asleep and laying on the couch with her head on John's leg. As the credits were rolling, Sam smiled at John. "Was it as bad as you feared?"  
  
John sighed. "Worse." A second later he laughed. "Nah, it wasn't that bad."  
  
"Chloe's asleep, you don't have to play along."   
  
John shrugged. "It wasn't Steel Magnolias, that's a start."  
  
Sam laughed quietly, and looked at Chloe. "I better put her to bed."  
  
"Mind if I help?" John asked, surprising Sam.  
  
She stood and replied. "Not at all. That way, I don't have to wake her up to get her into her room."  
  
Carefully, John picked Chloe up and stood. Following Sam's lead, he carried Chloe up the stairs to her bedroom. Sam watched, surprised by the gentle manner he showed. Carrying her, putting her in bed, and then stepping back to let Sam tuck her in.  
  
Chole's sleepy eyes opened just as Sam tucked the covers around her. She mumbled, "'Night, Mom. 'Night, John." A second later, she closed her eyes and was fast asleep.  
  
"Good night, baby," Sam whispered, kissing her on the forehead.  
  
From where he was standing, John whispered, "'Night, kiddo."  
  
Quietly closing the door behind them, the two agents walked back downstairs to the living room. "I probably should be going."   
  
Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's getting late."  
  
"It was kinda nice, just hanging out," John said, a shy quality in his voice.  
  
Smiling, Sam nodded. "It's not something I get to do very often," she said. After a moment, she added, "But you're right, it was nice."  
  
After an awkward silence, John walked to the door, pausing in the doorway. "So I'll see you at work tomorrow."   
  
Nodding, Sam agreed. "See you in the morning. Be careful driving home."  
  
John nodded, "I will. 'Night, Sam." Turning, he walked to where his car was parked.  
  
"Good night," Sam said to his retreating back.  
  
After his car pulled out of the driveway, Sam closed and locked the door. Leaning on the wooden object for a moment, she sighed. There was something tickling at the back of her mind, she just couldn't quite put her finger on it yet.  
  
***  
  
The next day at work, John arrived a bit earlier than usual, hoping to speak with Sam. However, he was intercepted by Bailey.  
  
"We've been called in on a case by the Jacksonville PD," Bailey said when he saw John. "We leave for Hartsfield in twenty minutes."  
  
John nodded. "I'll be ready." He turned and walked to his desk. Grabbing his notepad from a desk drawer, John looked up to see Sam in her office.   
  
Pushing the drawer closed, he walked up the short flight of stairs to Sam's office. Knocking on the door, he stuck his head inside. "Morning."  
  
Sam glanced up from where she was sorting through some papers. "Good morning."  
  
"Any idea what's up in Jacksonville?" he asked, walking inside the office.  
  
Sam shook her head, "Just the little Bailey told me. The briefing will be on the plane." Standing, Sam placed the papers into her attache case. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
"Whenever you are." He held the door open.  
  
Sam tilted her head to the side, and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. She looked at John. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk," she said, her voice low.   
  
John nodded. There was a feeling of hope in his heart that he couldn't quite explain. However, all he said was, "Me too."  
  
Sam's eyes met John's, but instead of saying anything, she merely nodded her head and walked out of the office. Following close behind her, John pulled the door closed and they walked to the parking deck together.  
  
From where he was sitting, downloading several files to take with them, George saw Sam and John leave. He chuckled. "There's definitely something going on there."  
  
***  
  
"The latest victim is a thirty-three year old Caucasian male." Bailey, having waited until they were airborne, began the briefing. "George, do you have the images JPD sent us?"  
  
George nodded. "Sure thing, just a sec." After a moment's pause, and the sound of his fingers clicking on the keyboard, George gestured to a small screen. "There you go."  
  
The first of several crime scene photos flashed on the small screen. "Thoughts?" Bailey asked, after they had finished viewing what evidence they had so far.  
  
"He was overpowered," Sam observed. "But not necessarily by someone stronger than himself."  
  
John nodded. "So we're looking for a woman."  
  
Sam shook her head. "Maybe not, but I want to wait till Grace can look at the victims."  
  
From where she sat scanning over her information, Grace said, "That will be harder than it sounds. The murders were stretched out of such a long period of time that they released the first two bodies for burial."  
  
"Do we at least have the local examiner's reports?" Bailey asked.  
  
Grace nodded. "And the latest victim is still in the morgue. Apparently, they just connected the three together."  
  
"This is Captain Lewis," the pilot's voice echoed over the intercom, interrupting their discussion. "We'll be landing shortly, please take your seats."  
  
"Let's get this show on the road," John commented as they began the descent into Jacksonville.  
  
***  
  
"He was struck with a blunt object from behind." Grace dropped a manila folder onto the table in front of Sam and Bailey. "If I were to guess, I'd say his attacker was at least the same height, if not a little taller."  
  
They were working in the Jacksonville Police Department building while they stayed in town. For the moment, the investigation was progressing rather slowly.  
  
"That's it," Sam said after listening to Grace.  
  
Bailey looked up at Sam. "What's it, Sammy?"  
  
Sam motioned toward the report. "It's not a woman. At least it's not very likely. Richard Blair was six feet tall."  
  
"And his killer would have to be at least six feet," Bailey continued. "So you think the killer is a man?"  
  
Standing, Sam began to pace in the small room. "It would make sense. Textbook case of the boy who was always picked on lashing out at the bully." Sam paused, lost in thought.   
  
She turned to George. "George, can you get on the personal records for the three victims? Including back to high school?"  
  
The computer tech nodded, typing a few commands into the computer. "It might take a little while, but I can do it. What do you think I'll find?"  
  
Sam shook her head, lost in thought. "I'm not sure exactly, but some type of connection. Someone willing to hold a grudge for a long time."  
  
"I'll see what I can find," George said, already focused on the computer in front of him.  
  
After a moment, Grace asked, "What did the local detectives say?"  
  
"John's talking with them now," Bailey offered. "We'll know more when he gets back."  
  
John walked into the conference room. "Don't count on it."  
  
Bailey waited until John sat down before replying. "They couldn't tell you anything, John?"  
  
"Nothing very helpful." John thumbed through his notes. "They're still dumbstruck the cases are connected." Glancing at the few notes he had scribbled down, he added, "And they are completely stuck."  
  
Bailey let out a long breath. "Then let's get to work."  
  
***  
  
Several long hours later, the team was on their way back to Atlanta. It had been agreed that they would work from Atlanta, and if another victim was discovered, return to Jacksonville to examine the crime scene.  
  
It was two days later while going over what information that had been gathered that George slapped his hand on the briefing room table. "I think I've got something here."  
  
Bailey stood, and walked over to stand behind George. "Tell me it's something good, Georgie." He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder.  
  
"What is it George?" Sam asked, putting the profile she had been focused on down on the table.  
  
After a few more key strokes, George displayed some of the data on the large screen. "I had to go a little further back than we originally planned, but I found a connection." A few seconds later an old team basketball photo appeared on the monitor next to the text. "All three victims not only attended the same middle school, but played together on the same basketball team."  
  
"Good work, George," Bailey said.  
  
Sam walked closer to the monitor, studying the faces closely. "So if this is their connection, who would want to kill them?"  
  
John, who had been sitting silently at the table listening to the conversation, tilted his head to the side. "My money is on the team manager."  
  
Sam turned to look at John. "Why do you say that?"  
  
"Look at him," the younger agent said. John walked over to where Sam was standing. "Tall, really thin. He looks like the type who would want to play and be accepted, but wasn't. So instead he helped manage the team."  
  
"Close but not quite, huh, John?" Bailey asked, nodding in agreement.  
  
Sam looked skeptical. "I agree with the motive, it just seems a little *too* obvious."  
  
"Right now it's all we have, Sam," Bailey noted. "George, see what you can find out about. . ." Bailey paused, reading the listing of names below the photo. "Carlton Mathers."  
  
***  
  
While George was busy researching Carlton Mathers, Sam retreated into her office to look over the profile she had been piecing together. Several minutes passed before she was interrupted by a knock on her office door. When she looked up, John was standing in the doorway.  
  
"Can I come in?" John asked, almost tentatively.  
  
Sam nodded, and waved her hand. "Sure. What up?"  
  
John shrugged, trying to act casual. "Nothing really. We just haven't had much of a chance to talk since the other night."  
  
Smiling faintly, Sam tilted her head in agreement. She found herself relieved that John seemed to be thinking along the same lines she was. "You're right. This case has kept us rather busy the past few days."  
  
"So I was wondering if you and Chloe would like to go to a movie, or something," John asked, sitting on the corner of Sam's desk. He smiled and touched his hair. "Sort of as a thanks for the haircut."  
  
Sam thought for a minute and smiled. "I think Chloe would love it."  
  
"And Chloe's mom? What would she think?"  
  
Before Sam could answer, Bailey knocked on the door and walked into Sam's office. Although he noticed the quiet way Sam and John were speaking, he ignored it. "We have him."  
  
"So soon?" John asked.  
  
Bailey nodded. "George just pulled up Mathers' records. He fits the profile. Now someone has to go back to Jacksonville and check into his recent activity."  
  
John stood. "I'll go."  
  
Nodding in agreement, Bailey replied. "We leave in ten minutes."  
  
"I'll meet you in the parking deck." After john spoke, Bailey left Sam's office to go and make arrangements for the trip to Jacksonville.  
  
A moment later, John turned to look at Sam. "Looks like you were right."  
  
"About what?" John asked, confused.  
  
"About Carlton Mathers."   
  
"Well," John said, shrugging his shoulders. "Playing varsity ball in high school teaches you things. Like how some things never change. The popular guys will always single out the guys who don't quite fit in."  
  
"Sad, isn't it?" Sam asked, looking down somberly at the papers on her desk. When John didn't reply, she looked at him. "Before you leave, Chloe's mom would be happy to go and see a movie." With that, the hint of a smile returned to her face.  
  
John's eyes lit up with the grin that filled his features. "Great. We'll figure out a time when I get back from Florida."  
  
"If it's not too late, give me a call and we'll talk about it then," Sam offered.  
  
Although surprised, John nodded. "Will do." Still smiling, he turned and walked out the office door.  
  
She watched John walk away before she let out a long breath. Sam couldn't help but wonder why it felt like something was changing.  
  
***  
  
John checked the number on the apartment door with the address he had scribbled in his notepad and reached up to knock. John and Bailey had arrived in Jacksonville, and after a little leg work, discovered that Mathers had been seen near at least one of the crime scenes.  
  
Knocking on the door, John stood back, waiting for Mathers to answer. A moment later, a thin middle aged man opened the door. When he saw the two men, and recognized Bailey's drawn badge, Mathers tried to slam the door shut and make a run for it.  
  
Jamming his foot in the door, John raced into the apartment after the suspect. "Carlton Mathers," John called out. "We just want to talk to you."  
  
Mathers made no effort to respond, and disappeared through a back window. Reaching the window, John looked out to see the suspect quickly descending the fire escape.  
  
Continuing the chase, John caught up with Mathers just after he reached the ground. He called out, "Stop right there."  
  
Instead of stopping, the fleeing man glanced back over his shoulder and redoubled his speed. In a last attempt to catch him, John landed a flying tackle, dropping the man to the ground just as Bailey rushed around the corner.  
  
When Bailey reached them, John was struggling to handcuff the protesting man. "What do you think you're doing, big shot? Huh?"  
  
John pulled the man to his feet. "We tried to question you, you ran. When I asked you to stop, you ran faster. Something tells me you have something to hide, Mr. Mathers."  
  
"All you jocks are alike." The now subdued man muttered at John under his breath.  
  
After cuffing the man's wrists behind his back, John raised a hesitant hand to his left eye. "Looks like he got you," Bailey noted.  
  
John cracked a half-grin, "Just a lucky elbow shot."  
  
"Come on," Bailey said. "The car is right around here. Let's take him in for questioning."  
  
***  
  
Pulling up into a parking spot, Bailey looked over at John. "You've been messing with your eye all day, when are you going to give up and do something about it?"  
  
John sighed. It had been hours since they apprehended Mathers in the alley behind his apartment building. After taking him back to the local police headquarters, it hadn't taken long for John's interrogation to break through his ego. Just before eight that night, with the bureaucracy behind them, Bailey and John boarded the plane for Atlanta.  
  
"There's not much I can do for it," John commented. "But I'll ice it down when I get home."  
  
Bailey nodded. "There's your car, why don't you head on out?"  
  
Too tired to argue, John nodded in agreement. "See you tomorrow."  
  
"Goodnight, John," Bailey said, watching as John climbed out of the car.  
  
Getting into his car, John put the key in the ignition and the sports car roared to life. Blinking carefully, he pulled out of the parking deck and onto the street. John drove home slowly, cautious of his constantly watering left eye.  
  
Finally at his apartment, John was glad to be home. Unlocking the door, he walked inside, and soon after re-locking it behind him, dropped onto the couch. A little while later, he sat up and pulled off his tie. Standing, he walked into the kitchen and made an ice pack out of an old dish towel.  
  
He was dozing on the couch when the phone ringing jostled him from sleep. Reaching out blindly for the cordless phone that sat on the coffee table, he punched the power button.  
  
"Grant."  
  
"How are you feeling?" Sam's voice asked through the phone.  
  
John sat up straighter, somewhat confused. "Sam? I thought I was supposed to call you." He hesitated. "Not that I mind. Wait," he paused again, "how did you know I was hurt?"  
  
"Bailey called me," Sam admitted.  
  
"Huh. I wonder why he called you?"  
  
John could picture Sam shrugging as she replied. "I don't know either. He just said that you took a pretty hard hit to the face."  
  
"I've been hit worse," John said, now leaning back against the couch.  
  
Sam laughed softly. "I know, I was there. As I recall, I was against that fight from the beginning."  
  
John protested. "This wasn't a fight."   
  
"I know," Sam agreed, her voice soft.  
  
John sighed. "And last time I did what had to be done. We had no other way of busting up those fights."  
  
Sam relented. "Possibly, but we'll never know."  
  
Wanting to change the subject, John asked, "So, how about that movie?"  
  
Sam laughed as she responded. "You sound so eager. How do you know you won't be forced to endure another chick-flick?"  
  
"Because Chloe is too young for the chick-flicks that really creep me out." John tried to joke.  
  
Sam thought for a minute. "How does Thursday night sound?"  
  
"Two days . . ." John said, thinking aloud. "Sounds about right. That will give my eye some time to tone down a bit." He laughed. "When I looked in the rearview mirror in the car, I thought Tammy Faye Baker was looking back at me."  
  
"Ouch." Sam laughed. "That pretty, huh?"  
  
John grinned. "You know, Sam, on you sarcasm just really isn't that attractive of a quality."  
  
"Well, I'm learning from the best, aren't I?"   
  
"And on that positive note," John laughed as he spoke. "I think I'm going to go to bed."  
  
"Want me to bring some concealer for you eye?" Sam asked, not managing to hide her mirth.  
  
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Offering me make-up," he muttered jokingly.  
  
Sam smiled. "Good night, John."  
  
"'Night, Sam," John said. "And thanks."  
  
"For what?" she asked, her voice quiet.  
  
John shrugged, knowing she couldn't see the gesture. "I don't know. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye." She hung up the phone.  
  
Pressing the off button on the phone, John sat it back down on the table and leaned back into the couch. "No use getting your hopes up, Grant," he mumbled to himself. "She was just concerned about a friend. Nothing more." But it was the more part that he couldn't help thinking about as he slowly fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
At work the next morning, Sam couldn't help but glance up every few minutes waiting for John to arrive. Characteristically, John walked in a few minutes before he had to be there. When she saw him walk to his desk and sit down, Sam stood and met him there.  
  
She leaned against the desk's edge, smiling. "Well," she said, looking at his eyes, "I wouldn't go as far to say Tammy Faye. But Bozo better watch out, his make-up has nothing on you."  
  
John met her humor with his own. "Well, at least I have an excuse. Those two are beyond hope."  
  
Sam smiled, touching the edge of the bruise hesitantly. "How does it feel?"  
  
He froze at the soft touch, not daring to move. "It's tender, but not as sore as last night." He answered honestly, his voice low. For a reason he couldn't explain he didn't want to resort to his usual witty retort.  
  
Sam dropped her hand, the moment over. "I've got a paper if you want to pick the movie for tomorrow night." Sam handed John the folded Journal-Constitution. "Just keep in mind that Chloe isn't as grown up as she'd like to think," she added with a laugh.  
  
Without looking at the paper, John asked, "How many times has she seen the latest Star Wars movie?"  
  
Sam sighed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "More than once."  
  
"And how about you?" John continued.  
  
Dropping her hand, she grinned wearily. "I haven't."  
  
"That's what I figured." He stood and looked down at Sam. "Up for a little adventure a long time ago?"  
  
Sam laughed. "Somehow I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid this. Although I've done pretty good so far."  
  
Resting a friendly elbow on her shoulder, John leaned over and whispered. "Come now, Sam. It's culture!"  
  
"Not quite the word I would use," she retorted. "But alright. This movie is your choice, after all, you had to watch Little Women."  
  
"Good, it's settled then," John said proudly. "How's the eight o'clock showing sound?" When Sam merely nodded, he added, "Then I'll pick you two ladies up at seven thirty."  
  
***  
  
It was late Wednesday afternoon when Grace walked into Sam's office and closed the door behind her. "So, how long were you going to wait before telling me that you and John were going out on a date?"  
  
Sam looked up from what she had been reading with a confused half-grin on her face. "What are you talking about, Grace?"  
  
Sitting down on the couch, Grace laughed. "Don't try and play innocent. You two are going out tomorrow night. To see Star Wars if George is right."  
  
Laughing, Sam shook her head. "Do I dare ask how George knows?"  
  
"You know how people talk," Grace said with a wave of her hand. "So, you're going to the movies . . ." she prompted.  
  
Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, Sam shook her head. "We're going to the movies, but it's not a date. It's a thank you."  
  
"Call it what you want, Sam. It's a date."  
  
"Grace," Sam protested.  
  
Smiling, Grace interrupted. "And about time too, I might add."  
  
Sam's shock showed on her face. "Excuse me?"  
  
Grace stood up, and walked around to sit on the edge of Sam's desk. "Don't tell me there's nothing going on between you two. We've all seen it."  
  
"There's nothing going on, Grace," Sam argued. "I promise."  
  
The medical examiner looked at Sam disbelievingly. "I don't know . . ."  
  
"We're just friends," Sam reiterated.  
  
Standing up, Grace rested her hands on her hips. "Okay, whatever you say." She grinned, adding, "But enjoy the movie."  
  
Sam laughed. "Would you go look at dead people, or whatever it is you do to pass all this free time we have all of a sudden."  
  
"I'm going, I'm going." She laughed, closing Sam's office door shut behind her.  
  
Seeing George standing not far away, Grace walked over to him. "Well?" George asked.  
  
"It's time to wait for them to figure out what we've already noticed," she observed.  
  
George rolled his eyes. "Great, those two are stubborn enough that this could take forever."  
  
"No kidding." Grace smiled, walking toward the elevator.  
  
***  
  
"Who is it?" Chloe called out after hearing the doorbell ring.  
  
"It's John, Chlo."  
  
Grinning, Chloe pulled the door open and looked up at the man standing outside. "Wow," she said in awe, "You really do look like a one-eyed raccoon."  
  
"Oh I do, do I?" John asked, picking Chloe up and carrying her over his shoulder inside the house. "I'll have you know that one-eyed raccoons are very popular."  
  
Laughing, Chloe didn't respond until he dropped her on her backside onto the couch. "I'll bet that's what they all say."  
  
"So, where's your mom, kiddo?" John asked, sitting on the couch next to Chloe. "It's time to go if we're gonna make the eight o'clock."  
  
Chloe giggled, and leaned over and whispered conspiratorially into John's ear. "Don't tell *her* that. She'll try to stall us!"  
  
"You've got a point there." John laughed. "What do you say we go find her?"  
  
Sam, walking into the living room, held up her hands. "I surrender."  
  
"Mooom," Chloe said, still giggling.  
  
Smiling, Sam walked over to the couch. "Ready to go?"  
  
"Just waiting on you," John grinned.  
  
Sam picked up her purse. "Then let's go, already."  
  
***  
  
"Chloe sure has gotten awful quiet back there," John observed while driving back to Sam's after the movie let out.  
  
Sam smiled and glanced at Chloe who was sleeping in the back seat. "She was so excited about the movie, I think she wore herself out."  
  
"And what did you think?" John asked with a grin, glancing momentarily over at Sam. When Sam didn't respond, John continued speaking, his eyes never leaving the road. "I thought so."  
  
"I liked it, okay?" Sam said in mock exacerbation. "You'd think you were interrogating me."  
  
John smiled. "I'd never interrogate you."  
  
Instead of responding, Sam took the opportunity to look over at John. He was carefully guiding the car through the Atlanta suburbs. Sam used the quiet, trying to decide what to think, but the drive was short and they soon reached the house.  
  
"Do you want me to carry her in?" John asked, pointing at the sleeping Chloe.  
  
Sam glanced back at Chloe. "I'd be grateful for the help."  
  
Once inside, John carried Chloe up to her bedroom and waited outside in the hallway while Sam managed to get her changed into her pajamas. He was looking at a painting on the wall when Sam stuck her head into the hallway. "She wants to say goodnight."  
  
John walked into Chloe's room, and kneeled down next to her bed. "'Night, John," she said sleepily. "Thanks for the movie."  
  
"Anytime, kiddo," John said, smiling. "It was my pleasure."  
  
"Good night, Chlo," Sam said, leaning down to kiss Chloe on the forehead. "Sweet dreams."  
  
They pulled the door shut behind them, much as they had several nights before. They were quiet; each lost in their own thoughts until they reached the front door.  
  
"Would you like some coffee?" Sam asked, not ready for John to leave.  
  
John shook his head. "No thanks." He paused, sinking his hands into his pockets. "Thanks for the fun night."  
  
Sam laughed. The sound, to John, rang with a musical quality. "I should be thanking you. It was your idea."  
  
"Ah, well, it beat a Thursday night alone with take-out." They stood there for a moment, neither speaking. "Sam, I . . ."  
  
Whatever he was about to say was cut off when the distance between them, which had been shrinking steadily the longer they spoke, disappeared completely. John leaned his head down, and Sam's lips met his own.  
  
A shy kiss, Sam slowly wrapped her arms around John's neck. A few minutes later, John broke away from the contact. He ran a hand absent-mindedly through his hair. "Sam, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have . . ."  
  
Sam shook her head, still reeling from the emotion packed into the innocent kiss. "No, I'm sorry. It's my fault."  
  
John shook his head, not understanding. Instead, when he saw a confusion filtering in her eyes similar to how he felt, he merely nodded. "I better go."  
  
Sam finally remembered to breathe. "Yeah. Good night."  
  
"'Night, Sam," he said, and walked to his car.   
  
Once he was on the road, John couldn't help but replay in his mind what had just happened. The night had been so similar to the last evening they had spent together. It was the end that was drastically different. He feared the risk of pushing Sam away as a friend far more than losing any chance of that something more between them.  
  
He had just closed his apartment door behind him, still confused, when the telephone rang. He picked it up wearily. "Hello?"  
  
"I'm not sorry." Sam's voice said simply.  
  
A moment later, John's shock faded. "You shouldn't be. It was my fault."  
  
"That's not what I meant." She was pacing aimlessly around the living room. "I'm not sorry it happened, I'm just not sure what it means."  
  
John sat down on the sofa, thinking *I know what I wish it meant*, but aloud he said, "I know, Sam."  
  
"What about breakfast tomorrow?" Sam asked, wrapping the phone cord around her finger.  
  
John nodded, although he knew she couldn't see. "Sounds good. Why don't you come here before work?"  
  
"All right," Sam replied. After a moment's thought, she laughed. "Should I bring anything?"  
  
John smiled. "Just yourself will suffice. I can manage to cook breakfast."  
  
Sam smiled, her laughter fading. "You're sure?"  
  
"Yes, Sam. Now good night."  
  
"See you in the morning," Sam said, and hung up the telephone. Although still confused by what had happened, she felt better after talking to John. A few minutes later, she walked upstairs and got ready for bed.  
  
John, however, was silently thanking the fact that there was a twenty-four hour grocery store in his neighborhood. Pulling into the deserted lot, he rushed inside the harshly lit store and quickly gathered everything he would need to fix breakfast.  
  
The clerk at the check-out counter looked at him oddly, but didn't comment on the assortment of eggs, coffee, milk, bagels and yogurt. Before long, John was back at his apartment storing all of his purchase in the refrigerator.  
  
***  
  
Early the next morning, Sam knocked on John's door. Silently she hoped that he was at least already awake. She knew that he was not exactly a morning person.  
  
Sam was quite surprised when John pulled the door open. He was dressed for work, with a spatula in one hand and a dishtowel over one shoulder. "Come in," he said, standing aside so she could enter. Seeing the look on her face, he laughed. "You didn't think I'd be awake, did you?"  
  
"Well, I must admit," she said. "I've seen you at work first thing in the morning. It doesn't lead to much optimism."  
  
John grinned, a twinkle in his eye as he took Sam's jacket before walking back into the kitchen. "Well, my cooking may surprise you too, then."  
  
Sam followed John into the kitchen, and was assaulted by the aroma of coffee that filled the room. "Coffee?" John asked, handing her a cup.  
  
"Thanks," she said, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "So, what's for breakfast?"  
  
John replied with his back turned to Sam. "An assortment." He turned, and slid a heap of scrambled eggs onto a plate. "Scrambled eggs, bagels and yogurt." He paused, glancing at Sam's surprised face. "I wasn't sure what you liked. I've only seen you eat bagels when we were on cases."  
  
Sam laughed. "When did you go to the store?"  
  
"What?" John asked, dropping the dishtowel onto the counter. "Why do you think I didn't have this already?" The disbelieving look that Sam cast at John caused his facade of seriousness to crumble. "Okay, sometime before midnight."  
  
"You shouldn't have . . ." Sam began to say.  
  
Pulling out a seat for Sam, John shook his head. "Sure I should have."  
  
The conversation during breakfast was light, and neither mentioned what had happened the night before. They both, however, had trouble not thinking about it.  
  
"Done?" John asked, and when Sam nodded, he reached over to take her plate. Rising from his chair, he turned and put the dish in the sink.  
  
"Let me help you," Sam said, standing.  
  
John didn't see Sam stand; when he turned around, he bumped into her. Pushed off balance, Sam lost her balance, falling right into John's arms.  
  
For the moment, neither one spoke, each content to stare into the other's eyes. "Sam," John managed to whisper right before their lips met in another kiss.  
  
Unlike the kiss the night before, which had been shy and innocent, the kiss intensified, becoming deeper and more urgent, until they broke apart.  
  
More confused than ever, John asked, "Sam?"  
  
Sam searched John's gaze. "We don't know what we're doing."  
  
A grin formed on John's face. "Good, because if we did, I'd be worried."  
  
Instead of replying, Sam wrapped her arms around John's neck, and kissed him again. When it ended, Sam let out a long breath. "We should probably go to work."  
  
"Probably." John grinned. "George and Grace have enough ideas as it is."  
  
Sam's face broke into a smile. "Yeah, they knew something was up before we did."  
  
"And what is up?" John asked, suddenly insecure with the entire situation. He knew it could too easily go wrong.  
  
Sam smiled softly, their arms still wrapped around one another. "Something good, I think."  
  
***  
  
During the morning briefing, which was short during their current lack of cases, Sam and John kept a discrete distance between themselves. It didn't stop both Grace and George from noticing the few glances that passed between them.  
  
After the meeting broke up, Sam disappeared into her office and John went to his desk. Casually standing off to the side where neither Sam nor John would notice them, Grace and George talked quietly.  
  
"I think it finally happened," Grace said.  
  
George glanced over at Grace, a grin on his face. "And what exactly are you referring to by it, Grace?"  
  
Grace playfully slapped George's arm. "Not what you're implying, buddy."  
  
"Okay, okay." George laughed. "But I guess we were wrong."  
  
"How's that?" Grace asked.  
  
Before he turned to go back to his computer station, George replied, "It didn't take them forever."  
  
***  
  
Just before it was time to leave, John walked up to Sam's office. After knocking on the door, he glanced around and ducked inside. "Keep acting like that, Grant," Sam kidded, "and Grace and George will be here in two seconds flat."  
  
"It's like being under surveillance." John laughed, looking over his shoulder. Crossing the office, John leaned against the corner of Sam's desk. "So," he said, "what happens now?"  
  
Sam smiled. "I believe the common term for it is we go out on a date."  
  
"Boy, am I glad you were here to tell me that," John said sarcastically, grinning.  
  
Closing the file she had been reading, Sam laughed. "Whatever I can do to help."  
  
"So do you and Chloe want to go out to dinner tonight?" John asked, brushing a strand of hair away from Sam's face.  
  
"What do you say that I find a sitter and we spend this evening with just the two of us? Try and figure out where we're headed."  
  
John nodded. "If that's what you want to do, it sounds great." He stood up and began to walk out of the office. Pausing, he turned. "Do you like French food?"  
  
"As long as it isn't snails or frog legs," Sam said, laughing.  
  
John smiled. "Then I know just the place. I'll pick you up at, say, eight?"  
  
Sam nodded and smiled. "See you then."  
  
***  
  
Chateau de Fraise was lit up with thousands of sparkling miniature lights, and the soft notes of a quartet drifted in the air when Sam and John pulled up. Killing the car, John got out and hurried around to open the door for Sam.  
  
"Thank you," she said and smiled brightly. Taking his offered hand, they walked into the restaurant.  
  
The dinner held its share of surprises. Like when Sam ordered off the menu, speaking fluent French. She couldn't help but laugh at John's reaction. "John," she said, smiling. "You look like I just sprouted another head."  
  
Closing his mouth, he laughed. "You speak French?"  
  
"Oui," she said, handing the menu to the waiter.  
  
After he ordered, John handed his menu to the waiter, and looked at Sam. "Just what other surprises are you hiding?"  
  
Sam shrugged coyly. "Now, what fun would it be to just tell you?"  
  
They had just received their food when a wandering violinist walked up to the table and began to serenade them. Sam and John applauded politely when he finished.  
  
Throughout the meal, Sam and John discussed all sorts of things. Although they did try and keep work out of it. Like breakfast that morning, each of them seemed content to avoid a serious conversation that might become too heavy.  
  
During the dessert, however, John sat his fork down. "We've managed to avoid the one conversation that's the reason we're here."  
  
"I know," Sam said, placing her napkin on the table. "We need to discuss us."  
  
John grinned. "We need to talk about if there is an *us*."  
  
"Do you regret last night and this morning?" Sam asked, steadfastly meeting John's gaze.  
  
John replied simply, his voice serious. "Never."  
  
It was Sam's turn to smile. "Then I think there is an us."  
  
"So . . ." John began.  
  
"What now?" Sam finished. When John nodded, she said, "We just see what happens."  
  
***  
  
Over the next few weeks, Sam and John continued seeing each other. Quite often, John would spend the evening at Sam's house, helping Chloe with her homework and enjoying quiet time with Sam.  
  
A month after their first date, Sam was sitting in her office when a delivery arrived. A guard ran it up from the check station, and Sam smiled when she pulled the gold box top off to reveal four long stem peach roses. When she looked up, John was standing in the doorway.  
  
"Do you like them?"  
  
Sam's smile returned. "I love them. They're beautiful."  
  
John smiled, still standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. "Good. I'm glad."  
  
"But why four? That's an unusual number."   
  
John laughed. "I couldn't come up with anything original, so I went for one rose for each week." He paused when Sam laughed. "It sounded different."  
  
"It's sweet," she said. "Are you coming over tonight?"  
  
Shaking his head, John replied, "Sorry, I have surveillance duty on the Ramsey case."  
  
Sam's smile dimmed, but didn't disappear. "I understand, believe me, all part of the job."  
  
"In fact," he said, glancing at his watch, "I better go. I'll call you, okay?"  
  
Sam nodded. "Be careful."  
  
"Always." John smiled.  
  
***  
  
After John had left, Grace walked into Sam's office. "I was walking to Bailey's office to give him the report on the latest victim when I noticed those." She pointed at the flowers.  
  
Sam smiled, and leaned over to smell the fragrant flowers. "I wondered how long it would take you," Sam kidded.  
  
"I have a sixth sense about these things." When Sam glanced at her with an odd smile on her face, Grace added, "Well, I do when it's the two of you anyway. I didn't ask for this ability," she joked, holding up her hands in mock surrender.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Sam said, still smiling. "I think it gives you something to do when you get too bored."  
  
Grace sighed, and sat down on the couch. "That's not very often here lately," she said. "It seems we're making up for the easy couple of weeks we had."  
  
"The Marshall autopsy still bothering you?" Sam asked, suddenly serious. She was referring to a case that had been stumping half of the VCTF for several days. Its name had come from the first victim, a well-known Athens businessman.  
  
Grace nodded shortly. "There's something I'm missing. I just can't put my finger on it."  
  
Sam smiled sympathetically. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."  
  
"How is the profile coming?" Grace asked.  
  
Sam sighed, glancing at the piles of open folders on her desk. "Narrow down which one we're talking about and I'll tell you."  
  
"I see what you mean," Grace said understandingly. "So, are you and John doing anything special tonight?"  
  
Sam shook her head. "No, he's working surveillance on the Ramsey case."  
  
Grace smiled. "It's a good thing you two started dating when you did. If you'd waited much longer, you would never have had the free time to manage it."  
  
"Occupational hazard," Sam said with a half-grin.  
  
Grace stood up and walked across the office. She stopped in the doorway and smiled. "Wouldn't have it any other way, right?"  
  
***  
  
When John called later that night, it was Chloe, not Sam, who answered the phone. "Hi John," she said.  
  
"Hey, how's my favorite kiddo?" Static echoed on the line, a result of John's using his cell phone during a sudden thunderstorm. Even over the static, John heard Chloe sigh. "What's wrong, little one?" he asked, concerned.  
  
"When are you going to come back over? I haven't seen you in days." He heard the childlike hope ringing in her voice.  
  
John sighed. "Sorry, kiddo, it depends on how long this case lasts."  
  
"I know," she said sadly.  
  
"What if I gave you a ride to school tomorrow? Then we can talk about everything we've missed here lately. Sound okay?"  
  
Smiling, Chloe agreed. "Okay! I'll tell Mom."  
  
John laughed. "Okay then. Say, can I talk to your mom?"  
  
"I'll get her," Chloe said. In the background he could hear her calling for Sam. Just before handing over the phone, Chloe added, "I love you. Bye."  
  
"Bye, Chloe," John said, waiting for Sam to pick up the phone. "Did you hear that?" he asked, awe in his voice.  
  
Sam smiled. "Yeah, I did. Seems like you won her over."  
  
"Tell her good night for me, okay?" John asked, still surprised by what Chloe had said. He had never really connected with children quite so deeply before.  
  
"I will," Sam said softly. "How's everything going?"  
  
John shrugged. "No change. We watch the house, and I think it watches us. That's all."  
  
"Something has to break soon." Sam tried to assure him.  
  
John sighed. "I really hope so. This is going beyond dull."  
  
"I'm sure you and Bobby are passing the time easily enough with your sordid humor." Sam laughed. "You're just wanting some pity."  
  
John smiled. "Yeah, well. Not everyone can appreciate the true humor that Bob and I share." A loud crack of thunder followed the lightning that split the sky. "I better go."  
  
"'Night," Sam said, before hanging up the phone.  
  
***  
  
"We got him!" John exclaimed, walking into Sam's office a week later.  
  
Sam looked up. "Ramsey?"  
  
John nodded, and leaned against the corner of Sam's desk. "We started noticing activity late last night, and the morning crew nailed him."  
  
"That's great," Sam said. "Now maybe you'll have a little more time off."  
  
John smiled. "I hope so. Although, I'm supposed to go talk with Grace about the Marshall case in a few minutes."  
  
"That one isn't going so well." Sam sighed. "Grace has been stumped for over a week, and George can't find any leads either."  
  
"Really?" John asked. "I haven't had a chance to go over the files yet."  
  
Sam flipped through the pile of folders on her desk and handed John one. "Here's what I have of the profile so far. You might pick up something from it."  
  
John took the folder, taking the opportunity to hold onto Sam's hand for a moment. "Thanks." After looking at Sam for a moment, he continued. "You look tired."  
  
Rubbing her free hand over her eyes, Sam replied, "It's just been a busy couple of weeks, that's all."  
  
John nodded, squeezing her hand. "What do you say to me taking you and Chloe out for ice cream tonight?"  
  
Sam smiled faintly. "I think Chloe would love it, and I know I'd enjoy actually getting to see you again."  
  
"Then it's a date," John said, standing. Kissing Sam on the cheek, he whispered in her ear. "I'll see you tonight."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Grace," John called out after walking into the morgue area. "You in here?"  
  
A second later, Grace's head appeared from behind a large stack of crates. "Yeah, right here." She walked around the cluttered area over to her desk. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Bailey told me to consult with you on the Marshall case," John said, dropping into a chair beside Grace's desk.  
  
The medical examiner nodded her head. "Yeah, now that I think about it, he mentioned that to me too."  
  
John looked closely at Grace. "Rough day?"  
  
Grace laughed shortly. "Rough week, actually."  
  
"That's what Sam was saying, too," he said with a nod.  
  
At his mention of Sam, Grace smiled. "How goes that?"  
  
"Sam and me?" John asked.  
  
Grace grinned, rolling her eyes. "Yes, you and Sam. How's everything going? I've never really gotten to talk to you about it."  
  
John laughed. "Maybe, but I've heard all about your cornering Sam."  
  
"That was weeks ago," Grace laughed, crossing her arms. "You can't tell me that George didn't bother you about it."  
  
"Oh, he bothered me about it, all right." John laughed, but didn't elaborate.  
  
"You know," Grace said, changing the subject. "I noticed the other day that it's almost time for your physical."  
  
John nodded. "Yeah, I know. I've just got to make the appointment with Doc Oc."  
  
"Who?" Grace asked, confused.  
  
John laughed. "Sorry, Spiderman joke. I meant Doctor Jordan."  
  
"Don't forget," Grace said, wagging a finger at him.  
  
He held up his hands. "I won't, I won't." A moment later he said "If you can keep a secret, I'll tell you something."  
  
Intrigued, Grace sat down facing John. "Do tell."  
  
"Well, actually, I need a piece of advice."  
  
"Okay."  
  
John smiled, his eyes sparkling. "What do you think of sapphires in engagement rings?"  
  
Grace's mouth fell open slowly. "You mean?"  
  
"I was thinking about proposing on her birthday," John said calmly.  
  
Grace's features broke into a smile. "I can't believe it, you're really going to propose?"  
  
John glanced around nervously. "Hey, keep it down. I haven't told anyone else."  
  
"Okay," Grace said. "Let's see, her birthday is in two weeks, right?"  
  
John nodded. "Just enough time to try and find the perfect ring. Which is what I needed your advice about."  
  
"Sapphires," Grace repeated.  
  
"Sapphires. The idea I had was for a ring like my grandmother's." He paused, knowing that Grace might be confused by the family connection. "My mother's mother, I mean."  
  
Grace nodded. "What did it look like?"  
  
"A single sapphire stone in the middle, with a solitaire diamond on each side."  
  
Smiling, Grace replied, "It sounds beautiful. She'll love it."  
  
"Are you sure it's not too soon?" John asked, suddenly not sure.  
  
"If anything," Grace said, shaking her head, "you two defy tradition."  
  
John smiled, "Thanks, Grace."  
  
"Anytime. Now, about the Marshall case . . ."  
  
***  
  
"How's the Marshall case coming?" Sam asked a couple of nights later while she and John were watching television at her house. They had put Chloe to bed an hour earlier, and were enjoying the quiet time together. During rough times at work, when time alone was rare, they would often just sit on the couch and talk.  
  
John glanced down at Sam, who was half laying on the couch with her head resting on his chest. He hugged his arm, which was across her shoulders, tighter. "I thought we decided to leave work at work?"  
  
"I know," Sam said. "I just haven't heard much about that one since Bailey and I started working on our new case."  
  
John leaned down and kissed Sam on the top of the head. "It's going fine. A little better than when I started on it. Grace thinks she found something with the last victim that we've been missing."  
  
"I miss getting to work together on cases sometimes. It was the only chance we had to see each other there for a little while."  
  
"I know," John said. "It'll get better soon."  
  
"So," Sam said, trying to change the subject. "Who do you think will win?" she asked, pointing at the football game on television.  
  
"Sam, you don't like football." John laughed, continuing to flip through the channels with his free hand. "Much less pro football."  
  
Sam laughed, tickling his ribs for good measure. "I know, I was just curious." While trying to avoid her tickling hand, John stopped flipping channels. "What about watching this?" Sam asked after looking at the television.  
  
"What is it?" John asked, relieved she had gotten distracted from tickling him. He followed her line of sight, to see what she was interested in watching.   
  
"The History Channel," Sam explained. "Looks like something about ancient Egypt. Might be interesting."  
  
John grinned. "Well, the company helps keep it interesting."  
  
"John." Sam laughed and turned her head to face him. "Now, just what did you mean by that?"  
  
"Who me?" he asked as innocently as he could manage, leaning down to steal a kiss. "How about that?"  
  
Sam smiled. "Well, I liked that."  
  
"More interesting than mummies?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.  
  
Sam grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Leaves the mummies in the dust, I'd say."  
  
John burst into laughter, just before kissing Sam again. "What do you say we bury the mummies?"  
  
Sam play slapped John in the ribs. "How about we wrap up the mummy jokes?"  
  
"But won't you be my mummy?" John baited, not quite laughing.  
  
"That's neighbor," Sam corrected, "and no, I'd much rather be here." To prove her point, she pulled him into another very anything but platonic kiss.  
  
When then kiss ended, John was grinning. He punched the power button on the remote and sat it down. "Good, I think I like you being here, too."  
  
"Well," Sam said, pulling back a few inches. "That would be a good thing considering this is my house."  
  
"Silly me," John said, laughing softly as Sam leaned forward to kiss him.  
  
***  
  
"We've got another one," John said, walking into the morgue to find Grace. It had been almost a week and a half since they had started working together on the case.  
  
Grace looked up from where she was sitting at her desk. "Another one?"  
  
John nodded with a glint in his eye. "But this time our killer was interrupted."  
  
"We have a witness?" Grace asked, surprised. She moved to gather her evidence bag.  
  
John shook his head. "According to what the local guys told me over the phone, the witness may not be much help, he's a local vagrant, rather well known for his drinking." John waited for Grace to finish gathering her supplies, and held the door open for them to walk through. "What I'm betting we've gained is evidence, Grace."  
  
"Exactly." She smiled. "Maybe we've finally caught a break."  
  
An hour later, John and Grace were at the crime scene. "It looks like we may have a print," Grace said when John walked up and kneeled beside her. "I'll have to get it back in the lab to be certain, but it's a chance.  
  
"Anything else so far?" John asked. He had been busy talking with the man who had stumbled onto the gruesome scene, but as expected, he had been of little help.  
  
Grace nodded her head. "Possible fibers in and around the throat."  
  
"He didn't have time to tidy up this time," John said, his eyes cold.  
  
"We may have just caught our break," Grace said, smiling for the first time about the Marshall case.  
  
***  
  
"Anything conclusive?" John asked, walking into Grace's office.  
  
Grace looked up and waited for John to sit down. "I just finished the examination," she stated and handed John a folder. "I've already sent the print to George. As soon as we rule out that it doesn't belong to the homeless witness or victim, we have a definite starting point."  
  
"That's the best news I've heard in days, Grace," John said, reading over the report. "What about the fibers?"  
  
"That, I'm afraid, won't be as much help in tracking him down. It's a weave of rope that's common to saddleries."  
  
John nodded. "It could be a start. We could cross match the prints to anyone on record that has business with any saddlery around the Athens area."  
  
"Precisely."   
  
"Now we just have to wait and see what George comes up with." John leaned back in the chair, still glancing over the notes.  
  
Grace laughed, almost relieved. "Hurry up and wait time, in other words."  
  
"Something like that." John grinned.  
  
"So," Grace said. "Are you ready for next week?"  
  
John rubbed his hands together. "Four more days, Grace."  
  
"Do you have the ring yet?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head. "Not yet. I pick it up right after my physical."  
  
"Good boy." Grace grinned. "You made an appointment."  
  
"Yeah, well," John said, "as soon as I'm done there, I'm going to Mason's Jewelers to pick up the ring."  
  
Just then, the phone on Grace's desk rang. She grabbed the phone. "Yes?" A moment later, she said, "Thanks, George."  
  
"What did he say?" John asked before Grace had time to hang up the phone.  
  
Grace finished hanging up the phone before she smiled. "We have a match."  
  
"Let's go get him, then." John smiled, walking quickly out of the office.  
  
***  
  
Four days later, John was on the phone confirming their dinner reservations and playing with the ring he was going to give Sam that night. "Yes," he said into the phone, "two under Grant." After a pause, he said, "What do you mean you must have lost the reservation?"   
  
As the maitre d' of the restaurant spoke, John interrupted him. "Yeah, whatever." Taking his aggravation out on the phone, he hung it up roughly.  
  
John began to think about another way to work out his plan. Looking down at the fragile ring that he still held he carefully put it back in its box. "Time to improvise," he mumbled to himself.  
  
It was Saturday afternoon, and Sam was spending the afternoon with Chloe before she and John went out to dinner that evening. Glancing at his watch, he discovered that he only had two hours to work with. Grabbing his car keys and her ring, he quickly left his apartment. He had an idea forming in his mind.  
  
***  
  
"Did you like the play, Mom?" Chloe asked, after they had left the theater.  
  
Driving through downtown Atlanta, Sam smiled. "I liked it very much, Chlo. Thank you for thinking of it."  
  
Chloe laughed. "Well, I wanted us to do something different this year, you know?"  
  
"What do you say that we buy the book?" Sam asked. "We could read a chapter a night before you go to bed."  
  
Chloe nodded eagerly. "I'd like that. It'd be like remembering the play all over again."  
  
"Good, I'll pick it up one day next week, okay?" When Chloe nodded, Sam went on to say, "You do remember that Angel is coming to visit tonight, right?"  
  
Chloe nodded again. "I remember. So you and John can go out." Chloe smiled. "Angel hasn't been to visit in forever, Mom."  
  
"I know," Sam said. "So the two of you should have fun tonight."  
  
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside the house. Angel was already there, waiting. Chloe jumped out of the car as soon as Sam killed the engine.  
  
"Angel!" she called out, running up to her. "You're here!"  
  
"Hey, Chlo," she said, bending over to give her a big hug. "How've you been?"  
  
Smiling, Chloe took Angel's hand and led her into the house behind Sam. "I've been great," she said over her shoulder.  
  
Once they were inside, Chloe ran upstairs to change out of her dress and into play clothes. While she was there, Angel and Sam talked in the living room.  
  
"Happy birthday, Sam," she said, giving her a hug.  
  
Sam smiled. "Thanks, Angel. It's been too long since you were here." She walked across the living room and dropped her purse in a chair.  
  
"My art's really taken off," she said with a smile.  
  
Sam looked over at her friend and smiled warmly. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you."  
  
Instead of smiling, Angel's face grew serious. "So it's serious between you two?"  
  
Knowing instinctively what she was referring to, Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's serious."  
  
"You know what I told you about him, Sam." Angel laid a hand on Sam's arm. "He's not a one woman kind of guy. He sees commitment and he bolts."  
  
"I know you two had problems, Angel," Sam said, smiling faintly. "But we've been great."  
  
Angel smiled. "Then I wish you the best. I only want you to be happy."  
  
"That's what John makes me."  
  
***  
  
When John pulled up in Sam's driveway, he recognized Angel's car. After walking up to the door, he rang the doorbell and waited.  
  
"John," Angel said when she opened the door. "Come in," she added, standing aside.  
  
John smiled, doing his best to be polite. "How've you been, Angel?"  
  
"Better," she smiled. "Thanks."  
  
"Is Sam ready?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"She's right here," Sam said from the stairs, with Chloe standing next to her. Looking down at John in his suit, Sam couldn't help smiling. "You look nice."  
  
"Yeah, John," Chloe agreed, "You look handsome."  
  
With a smile to match Sam's, John winked at Chloe. "Why thank you little one." He turned his gaze to Sam, wide-eyed. "You look wonderful, yourself." He had a hard time tearing his eyes away from Sam, dressed in a spaghetti strap, navy blue satin dress.  
  
After walking down the rest of the stairs, Sam crossed the living room. "So are you going to tell me where we're going?"  
  
John grinned, shaking his head. "Not just yet. Are you ready?" When Sam nodded, he held out his elbow formally. "Then your chariot awaits."  
  
Sam laughed, and looked over at Angel and Chloe. "Thanks for your help, I'll see you two later tonight."  
  
Angel nodded and smiled faintly. "Have a good time."  
  
"Bye Mom, bye John," Chloe said, smiling brightly and waving.  
  
***  
  
They had been driving for about fifteen minutes when Sam spoke. "Where are we going? This road doesn't go into town."  
  
John laughed. "You're quite the impatient one tonight, aren't you?"  
  
"What can I say, you've piqued my curiosity," she said, smiling.  
  
Shifting gears as he made a turn, John replied, "Well, too bad. Tonight you just have to wait."  
  
Ten minutes later, Sam realized where they were going. "The cabin?"  
  
"Maybe," was all he would say.  
  
When they arrived at the cabin, it was well past dark. From the outside, though, the interior of the cabin seemed to be glowing. "John?" she asked, as he took her hand and led her to the cabin.  
  
Walking up on the porch, John unlocked the door and waited for Sam to walk inside. He smiled when he heard her gasp in surprise. "It's beautiful."  
  
John followed her inside and closed the door behind them. Walking up behind her, he rested his hands on her shoulders. "Happy birthday, Sam," he whispered, dropping a kiss onto her collarbone.  
  
"How did you manage this?" she asked, awe still in her voice. Walking into the interior of the room, Sam found herself surrounded by what looked like hundreds of white candles. A white sheet of paper laying on the coffee table caught her attention. "What's this?" she said to herself. Scanning the note, she smiled, and turned to John. "'Have a wonderful night, Love Grace'?" she read aloud.  
  
John grinned sheepishly. "Well, I needed the help."  
  
"I can't believe you went to all this trouble," Sam said.  
  
Walking over to where she stood, John pulled her into an embrace from behind. "You're worth it." A moment later, he let go and walked over to the counter. Sitting there were two freshly chilled glasses of champagne. John handed her one of the flutes. "A toast?"  
  
Taking the offered glass, she smiled. "How about to happiness?"  
  
"To us." They clinked glasses and took a drink.  
  
Sam sat her glass down on the coffee table. She put her arms around John's neck, and he also sat his glass down. "Thank you for tonight. This is wonderful." Leaning her head forward, their lips met in a gentle kiss.  
  
When John pulled back, he snuck a hand into his jacket pocket and felt the familiar band that rested there. "There's one more thing."  
  
"What else could you do?" Sam asked, leaning back. "This is perfect."  
  
A slow, nervous smile spread across John's face. "Come here," he said, and lead her to a chair. "Sit," he added, a confused smile on her face, she complied.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
His stomach fluttering, John slowly lowered himself down onto one knee, so that he was kneeling in front of Sam. "I don't know how you feel about me," he began, his nervousness echoing in his voice. "But I know that I don't want to imagine tomorrow without you."  
  
Carefully, he pulled the ring from his pocket and held it out for Sam to see. The candlelight glinted off the trio of stones as he asked, "Will you marry me?"  
  
Sam's mouth dropped open, and from the moisture that had filled her eyes, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She tied to speak, but nodded instead.   
  
After John slipped the ring onto her finger, she wrapped her arms around his chest. "I love you, John," she managed to say.  
  
His own eyes glinting with moisture, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let go of a relived, shaky breath. "I think I've waited my whole life to hear that."  
  
***  
  
They drove home later that night, but it was the next morning before they told Chloe. Although Angel had spent the night, she left soon after Chloe woke up.  
  
"Hi John," Chloe said after walking down stairs. "Are you here to eat breakfast with us?"  
  
John smiled and picked Chloe up in a giant hug. "Sure am, kiddo." After he let her down, Sam walked into the room.  
  
"Hey, Chlo," she said, smiling.  
  
Chloe grinned. "How did your birthday surprise go?" she asked eagerly.  
  
Sam glanced from Chloe to John, caught off guard by her question. "Just how much did you know?" Sam asked, smiling.  
  
Chloe looked up at John, and back at her mom. She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I had to ask someone's permission, didn't I?" John asked with a grin.  
  
"Chloe, you knew all along?" Sam asked, shocked. When Chloe nodded her head, Sam laughed. "You kept your secret very well." Glancing at John, she asked, "What I if I had said no?"  
  
"Chloe and I discussed that too, didn't we, little one?" John said.  
  
Again, Sam looked back and forth between Chloe and John. "I can't believe you two," she said good-naturedly. Walking over to sit next to Chloe, Sam asked, "And what do you think about all of this?"  
  
Chole beamed. "I like it!"  
  
"Then I'm glad we all agree," Sam said, tickling Chloe.  
  
From where he stood watching Sam play with Chloe, John asked, "Are you two ladies ready for breakfast?"  
  
"I am!" Chloe cried, jumping up and running into the kitchen.  
  
Sam walked over to John, and leaned into his offered embrace. "Happy?" John asked.  
  
Sam smiled, holding him tighter for a moment. "Very."  
  
***  
  
Monday morning, Grace was waiting for Sam outside her office. "So?" the older woman asked. "Tell me how it went."  
  
Unlocking the door, Sam cut Grace a sideways glance. She laughed, rolling her eyes. "You knew more than I did most of the time."  
  
Grace smiled. "Well, John needed a little assistance. And some moral support."  
  
"Thank you." Sam sat down at behind her desk. "Somehow I don't doubt it about the moral support," she added, her eyes sparkling.  
  
"You're welcome," Grace said shortly. "First things first, I want to see this ring I've heard so much about." Sam held her left hand out. "Sam, it's beautiful."  
  
"I know." She pulled her hand back, glancing at the ring. Meeting Grace's gaze, she smiled softly. "The whole evening was, actually."  
  
"Were you surprised?"  
  
"That hardly describes it." Sam laughed, thinking back to his proposal. "And to think you and Chloe both knew before I did."  
  
"Yeah, well," Grace said, a smirk on her face. "Had to make sure it happened right, I suppose." She paused for a moment. "Have you told Bailey yet?"  
  
Sam shook her head, standing. "Actualy I'm going to his office once I fill you full of gossip."  
  
"Gossip?" Grace looked at her with a mock-hurt look on her face. "Is that what you think of me?"  
  
Sam laughed. "You and George, yes."  
  
Smiling, Grace pulled Sam into a warm hug. "Congratulations, honey." Pulling away, she added, "I'm sure you'll be very happy."  
  
"Thanks, Grace." Grace turned to leave, pausing when Sam spoke again. "Thanks for everything." Grace nodded in acknowledgment and walked out of the office.  
  
A few moments later, Sam knocked on Bailey's door. "Come in," Bailey called out from inside.  
  
Sam opened the door, pushing it closed behind her. "Hi, Bailey."  
  
Bailey looked up. "Morning, Sam." Seeing the smile on Sam's face, he smiled in return. "Why are you so happy? Have a good birthday?"  
  
Sam nodded, and walked over to stand in front of Bailey's desk. She held out her left hand. "I guess you could say so."  
  
Seeing the ring and the expression on Sam's face, Bailey smiled and stood. After walking around the desk he gave her a hug. "Congratulations, Sammy."  
  
"Thanks, Bailey."  
  
Bailey pulled away, still smiling. "I'm sure you'll be very happy together." Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. "So, when is the wedding?"  
  
"We're thinking in about six months."  
  
Bailey nodded. "An early spring wedding then. It'll be beautiful here that time of year." Bailey paused, turning serious. "What does Chloe think of all this?"  
  
"She knew he was going to propose before I did. In short," Sam laughed. "She's thrilled."  
  
"I'm glad, Sam. I'm happy for you."  
  
Sam's smile brightened. "Thanks, Bailey."  
  
***  
  
"You finally did it." George looked at John with an unbelieving grin on his face. When John nodded, George clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, man. About time, I might add."  
  
John laughed. "I'm glad you and Grace were so secure. I can't say that I shared that feeling."  
  
"Ah, there was never any doubt, other than the question of if you'd ever ask." George replied with a smirk. "So, when is the wedding going to be?"  
  
"In about six months, but she hasn't picked a date yet."  
  
Sam, having walked up from behind John, asked, "And what she would that be?"  
  
John was startled by the unexpected comment, but recovered quickly. "Chloe, actually," John answered with a baiting grin.  
  
"By all means, then." Sam laughed. "Seriously, though, how about the first part of April?"  
  
John managed to not roll his eyes, but just barely. "Whatever you think works best."  
  
"Wow, you weren't always this agreeable." She kidded John, play-punching him on the arm.  
  
George grinned. "Yeah, this is doing wonders for your personality, buddy. Maybe you should've done this years ago."  
  
Sam looked at George, smiling at his jesting comment. "Did you ask him?"  
  
"Ask him what?" George asked, looking from John to Sam and back to John.  
  
John grinned sheepishly at George. "Well, it would seem as if I'm in need of a best man."  
  
"Me?" George asked, disbelief written on his face.  
  
Shrugging, John did roll his eyes then. "Yeah, you. That so bad?"  
  
"What about Nate?"  
  
John's smile dimmed somewhat at George's mention of Nathan. "Nathan won't be able to make it. It's a long story." Forcing a grin, he added, "Probably take exactly two hours to tell."  
  
Recognizing the diversionary tactic, George smiled and nodded. "Then I'd be honored."  
  
John turned to Sam. "Did you talk to Grace?"   
  
Sam nodded. "I've talked to her, but I didn't get a chance ask her yet." She took John's hand in her own. "Want to come with me?"  
  
"Why not," John commented, already following her, George laughing behind them.  
  
***  
  
They found Grace in her office, as they usually did. Walking into the controlled chaos, Sam smiled. "I've got a question for you."  
  
"Shoot." She smiled as she watched Sam and John approach together, hand in hand.  
  
"I was wondering if you would be my maid of honor at the wedding."  
  
Grace smiled, her surprise showing. "I'd be delighted, but what about Angel?"  
  
"She can't make it," was Sam's simple explanation. Before she had left, Angel had again tried to convince Sam that John was bad news, and they not had parted on the best of terms.  
  
Grace nodded, understanding the truth behind her words. "I'm sorry."  
  
Before Sam could respond, Grace's phone rang. "Hello?" she said into the receiver. She glanced at John. "Just a minute. He's right here."  
  
"Who is it?" John asked, taking the offered phone.  
  
"Someone from Doctor Jordan's office. You didn't forget about your physical, did you?"  
  
John shook his head, and covered the mouthpiece. "No, ma'am. I went like a good little boy."  
  
Sam and Grace continued to speak while John ducked off to the side to speak with the nurse. During the conversation, Sam kept casting sideways glances at John. He walked back over to them when he got off the phone. Sam looked at him, concnerend. "Is everything all right?"  
  
John nodded. "I'm sure. They just want to go over some of the test results." This sounded odd to both Sam and Grace, but John brushed it off. "I'm sure it's nothing."  
  
"Do you want me to come with you?" Sam tried to smile, and he squeezed her hand.  
  
He shook his head. "No thanks, you stay here. I shouldn't be gone that long."  
  
Grace stood off to the side and watched as they spoke in lowered voices. She could see the concern on Sam's face as they spoke.  
  
"I'll be back before long." John gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I love you."  
  
"Love you, too," she whispered, watching as he walked away.  
  
After John was gone, Grace walked over to stand beside Sam. "Are you okay?"  
  
Sam glanced at Grace's concerned face. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Grace."  
  
"I know, sweetie." Grace gave her a hug, trying to be supportive. "But I'm sure it will be okay."  
  
Sam nodded, but didn't say anything.  
  
***  
  
Upon arriving at the doctor's office, John was shown into an examination room and asked to wait. Several minutes later, Doctor Jordan stuck his head into the room. "Agent Grant, I'm glad you could come."  
  
"The nurse made it sound important." He had been nervous ever since he spoke with the nurse, even though he had done his best to keep it from Sam.  
  
The doctor nodded. "It may be, it may not. The truth is we need to run another test. Your blood work returned some odd results."  
  
John's mouth was dry, and he swallowed fretfully and cleared his throat. "What kind of results?"  
  
"You need to understand that it's entirely possible that the blood work is misleading. That's why we need the additional test," the doctor reiterated.  
  
John took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "What do you think it might be?"   
  
The doctor sighed. "I'm afraid I need to refer you to an oncologist, Agent Grant."  
  
He froze, hoping he had heard the doctor wrong even while knowing he hadn't. "An oncologist," John repeated, blinking slowly. "But those are the doctor's that deal with cancer."  
  
Doctor Jordan nodded gravely. "It's possible that you're suffering from a form of lymphoma."  
  
Shock broke through the frozen John's frozen features. "What?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.  
  
"There is a good doctor here in the building, Doctor Thompson. I've spoken with him. He's agreed to take on your case, should there be a need for it. He'll have to perform a lymph node biopsy to determine whether or not you are actually sick. Please understand this, Agent Grant."  
  
John nodded, his face pale. "When?"  
  
Doctor Jordan glanced at the clock. "He said he could see you in about fifteen minutes if that's all right."  
  
"Okay," John replied, nodding quickly. Standing, he grabbed his jacket. "Where do I need to go?"  
  
"Right this way." Doctor Jordan lead John from the office.  
  
***  
  
Once he had been shown to Doctor Thompson's office by a nurse, he was led to an exam room. A few minutes later, a middle aged man entered. "Agent Grant," he said, holding out his hand. "Doctor Thompson."  
  
John nodded, and shook his hand. "Doctor Thompson." He paused for a second before asking, "This won't take long will it?"  
  
Thompson shook his head. "No, I can take the sample rather easily."  
  
"Will it show?" John asked, not meeting the doctor's gaze.  
  
Confused by the question, Thompson asked, "Excuse me?"   
  
John rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Will it leave a mark? I don't want anyone to know."  
  
Doctor Thompson shook his head. "No, I can take the sample without leaving a noticable mark."  
  
His jaw clenched, one muscle along his chin quivering. "Then let's get it over with."  
  
The doctor nodded. "I'll be back in just a moment then."  
  
When Doctor Thompson returned, he was accompanied by a nurse carrying a tray of equipment. "I'll have to apply a local anaesthetic, Agent Grant." Guessing John's next concern, he amended his statement. "However, nothing so extreme as to cause you any trouble functioning after we're done. You will be able to drive yourself."  
  
John nodded, but stayed silent. Within moments the procedure was complete. "I'll have this run through the lab. I should know something by the end of the week."  
  
"Thank you, doctor," was all John could think to say, trying not to think about the wait for those results.  
  
Knowing that Sam would be anxious for him to return, John did his best on the drive back to work to act as normally as possible. He wasn't sure what to tell Sam. He wasn't sure when to tell her.   
  
Finally, when he was almost back to the office, he forced himself to admit that he wasn't sure if he should tell her at all.  
  
***  
  
When John got back to work he headed directly to Sam's office. Knocking on the door, he walked in before Sam could say anything.  
  
"How did it go?" She didn't missing the pale, shaken look he carried.  
  
John shook his head. "He just wanted to go over a few things. Nothing vital."  
  
"Then why do you look upset?" Sam asked, her professional eye trained on him.  
  
"I think he just spooked me more than anything." John shrugged, managing to smile. "So how were things here while I was gone?"  
  
"Just the usual routine," Sam said, still suspicious. "Bailey asked why you weren't at the meeting, but I cleared it with him."  
  
John nodded. "Thanks, Sam."  
  
"You don't have to thank me," she said, "we're here for each other. Like we're supposed to be."  
  
John smiled, and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad." Pulling back, he grinned. "Now, I have to get to work."  
  
Sam nodded, still not convinced, but willing to play along with his game -- for the time being. "Okay, I'll meet you for lunch."  
  
"I'll be there," he said, and walked out of her office.  
  
Sitting at his desk, John did his best to look as if he were searching through reports and papers. Inside, however, he was trying to sort through boiling emotions. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was more than obvious that Sam was suspicious of what was really going on.  
  
A quick glance back at her office and he immediately felt horrible. Keeping it a secret from her for the week was going to be one of the hardest things he had done in as long as he could remember. Yet all it took to steel his will was to think of how much Sam had been hurt when Tom had been taken away from her.  
  
He was going to be damned if he caused her that kind of pain, too.  
  
***  
  
During the week while he waited in a personal hell for the biopsy results, John's saving grace was Chloe. She distracted him whenever he grew too somber and allowed him an out when the burden of his secret became too heavy.  
  
At work he was able to stay busy enough to forget about the test for hours at a time. It was a similar distraction that came over him whenever he and Sam would spend time together. As scared as he was about whether or not to tell her, he was even more determined to enjoy every moment with her.  
  
"You know what I want to watch?" John said with a grin late Thursday night.  
  
Sam smiled. As the week had progressed, the nagging concern in the back of her mind had lessened. Although it was still there, it had faded. "What's that?"  
  
John smiled, almost embarrassed. "Little Women."  
  
Sam laughed in surprise. "Are you serious? I thought you hated it."  
  
"And here I always thought of it as our movie," John retorted dead-pan.  
  
"Not Star Wars?" Sam asked, laughing.  
  
"Nah." He settled down on the couch next to Sam. "That's mine and Chloe's movie."  
  
Sam stood up and walked over to the entertainment center. She found Little Women in the video case and plugged it into the VCR. Walking back over to the couch, she settled down next to John as had become their habit. "I can't believe you want to watch this," she said with a laugh.  
  
"Life's an adventure," John kidded with a laugh, kissing her on the temple. "This is just one part of it."  
  
"I never thought of watching Little Women as an adventure." She couldn't help her continued laughter.   
  
John laughed deep in his throat, the sound echoing against Sam's ear. "That's because you're a girl."  
  
"Oh, well, then," Sam said sarcastically. "I guess that explains it."  
  
John smirked. "Sure it does."   
  
They stayed up late that night, cuddled together on the couch - John's arms wrapped around Sam's shoulders. First watching first Little Women, then they watched whatever happened to be on television.   
  
In the calm quiet, neither moving nor speaking, John suddenly found himself not wanting to go to sleep. He longed to stay as close to Sam as possible, for as long as possible.  
  
She fell asleep, her head resting against his chest. John sat there, motionless, except for steadily brushing her hair with his hand. For the moment, he was content to stay there and watch her dream.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, John was sitting at his desk when the telephone rang.  
  
"Grant," he said, putting down the paper he was reading. He listened for a second. "Thanks, I'll be there in a half an hour." A second later he hung up the phone.  
  
Closing the folder he was using, John stood and walked to Bailey's office. He knocked on the door, and walked into the office. "Yes, John?" Bailey asked, looking up at the younger agent.  
  
"I've got to go check into something," he said vaguely, silently hoping Bailey wouldn't ask too many questions. "I'll be back in an hour or two."  
  
Bailey nodded, sensing that something was happening that John wasn't telling him. "Okay. Just take an early lunch."  
  
John tilted his head, but wasn't going to pass up the easy offer. "Thanks, Bailey." He walked out of the office without a look back.  
  
The drive to the doctor's office seemed to stretch out in front of him. After fighting the busy Atlanta traffic, John was feeling frustrated and angry. Arriving at the medical building, he was glad to be able to park the car and get out.  
  
While he was in the waiting room, he tried to read one of the year old Time magazines but couldn't concentrate. When a nurse walked into the waiting area and called his name, John jumped in his seat. Quickly regaining his composure, he stood and followed the young nurse into the doctor's personal office.  
  
"Agent Grant, please have a seat," Doctor Thompson said, gesturing toward a chair.  
  
John shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to read anything in the doctor's face. Shaking his head, he walked over and sat in one the offered chair. "The nurse said you had the test results?" Even as he asked, John wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.  
  
The doctor nodded. "I knew you would want to know as soon as possible." The doctor glanced over the lab results printout on his desk. "I'm sorry," he said finally.  
  
John thought his world had slid to a halt. He blinked and swallowed nervously. "It's positive?" he managed to ask, his voice dry.  
  
Doctor Thompson cleared his throat. "The biopsy tested positive for non-Hodgkin's lymphoma."  
  
"So what does that mean, exactly?" John asked. He paused. "And why has it never been found before?" Something close to anger was growing inside him, he needed to feel in control but couldn't.  
  
The doctor closed the file and folded his hands together. "What you have is a highly aggressive form of lymphoma. It was most likely never diagnosed before, simply because it wasn't there."  
  
"What caused it?" John asked, his eyes unfocused and staring at nothing.  
  
"The current belief is that a leading cause is the toxins and pollution in air and water." John didn't respond and the doctor continued. "And as for what we do next, we have a few options."  
  
John nodded, licking his lips nervously. "You mean like chemotherapy."  
  
"That's one option." Thompson nodded. "However, I would like to take the Watch and Wait approach with you for the time being."  
  
"You mean just give up?" John asked, his voice rising. He was holding onto the arm rests of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. "That there's no way to beat this?"  
  
Doctor Thompson shook his head, hoping to reassured him. "No, it's a type of treatment. We wait until you reach a certain point and then attack the disease with chemotherapy. Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma is curable disease, Agent Grant. Although not one hundred percent of the time, the percentages are quite good."  
  
"And this works?" John asked, disbelievingly.  
  
"It has been known to." The doctor nodded his head.  
  
John thought for a moment. His thoughts were racing between what the doctor had told him, and the future he and Sam had already began planning. "How long would we have to wait?"  
  
It was a moment before the doctor responded. "It varies from case to case. Judging by the state of growth now, and I'll need to check you again today," he noted. "We'll compare the two results. Then we'll have a better idea how fast this is growing."  
  
"Then do it," John said, wanting to get the procedure over with.  
  
Doctor Thompson nodded. "Right this way, Nurse Simmons will show you to an exam room."  
  
***  
  
That weekend, Chloe was playing in a school basketball tournament, and again, John was able to push the worry over what Doctor Thompson had told him to the back of his mind.  
  
"Way to go, kiddo!" John said, giving Chloe a high five as she rushed out of the locker room to find John and her mom.  
  
Chole grinned. "That was fun!" Taking John's hand, she looked up at him. "Thanks for helping me with my shot a last weekend."  
  
"You're welcome." John smiled with a wink. "Ready to go find your mom?" When Chloe nodded, he leaned down and whispered, "What do you say we go for ice cream to celebrate?"  
  
"Can we?" Chloe asked, surprised. "We haven't had dinner yet."  
  
John and Chloe were walking toward the bleachers when John said, "Sometimes you've just got to eat dessert first, kiddo."  
  
"There you two are," Sam said, walking over to them. She took John's offered hand. "Chloe I was just talking to Amy's mom, she said to tell you that you played great."  
  
Chloe was beaming. "Well, it's only because John helped me."  
  
"Yeah, well," Sam said, a twinkle in her eye. Leaning down to Chloe she whispered conspiratorially, "He has his uses, doesn't he?"  
  
As they walked to the car, John couldn't help the grin on his face. There were still times he was surprised by being part of a family again. Laughing he squeezed Sam's hand. "I guess there's a reason to keep me then, huh?"  
  
Unlocking the car door, Sam laughed and turned to look at John. "I think the warranty is gone now anyway, I'm stuck with you." After Chloe climbed in the back seat, Sam closed the door. Getting in the passenger seat, Sam was surprised when John leaned over and kissed her. "What was that for?" she asked with a smile.  
  
John cocked his head to the side. "Do I need a reason?"  
  
"No," she said, pulling on her seat belt. "I suppose not."  
  
Giggles erupted from the back seat. "Come on, John. You said we were going for ice cream."  
  
Sam turned and looked at John, one eye brow slightly raised. "And since when do we eat ice cream before dinner?"  
  
Pulling out of the parking lot, John grinned. "Since we're celebrating."  
  
"Yeah, Mom," Chloe chimed in from the back seat with a laugh. "We're celebrating."  
  
Glancing back at Chloe, Sam managed a serious look before laughing. "Then I guess I'm out numbered, huh?"  
  
"Yep!" Chloe said, and smiled at John, who smiled back at her in the rearview mirror.  
  
***  
  
Monday John found himself again sitting in the doctors office. He had taken his lunch break to sneak away from the office to speak with Doctor Thompson.  
  
The doctor waited untill they were both seated and began. "I think what I mentioned to you on Friday is our best bet."   
  
John nodded. "The test results?"  
  
"It's growing at a rate about what I expected. My feeling is that the best course of action would be to wait and then hit it with the chemo."  
  
"About how long until I would have to start?"   
  
Glancing over the paperwork, Doctor Thompson removed his glasses. "I'll watch the progression of the disease, but my best guess right now, is about four months."  
  
"Four months," John repeated, his voice empty. The words echoed in his mind. "Thank you doctor," he said, standing up to leave.  
  
"Wait, Agent Grant," the doctor said, standing. John turned around, and the doctor observed him for a moment. "You'll have to come back in for check-ups, so that we can monitor you. You can schedule them with Nurse Simmons."  
  
John nodded, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "Then I guess I'll be seeing you then."  
  
John left the medical building and spent the rest of his lunch break in a park near the office. He walked around, trying to decide what to do. He knew he would fight it, he had never been one to quit and he wasn't about to start.  
  
Sam was another matter. Most of the time he spent walking wasn't spent thinking about his health, or the chemotherapy that awaited him. Instead, he found himself discovering a renewed effort to make the most of the next four months.   
  
In that moment, he decided not to tell her for the time being. He was haunted still by the thought of hurting her the way Tom's death had. When the time came, he knew, he would make the choice that hurt her and Chloe the least. He just wished he didn't have to do it.  
  
***  
  
For the next few weeks, life went on for Sam and John. Using varied excuses, John continued to make his appointments with Doctor Thompson. Once a week, John went to the office and the progression of the disease was noted. It was all building up to the inevitable day when Doctor Thompson thought it was best to start the chemotherapy. The only real difference John could see, was that he tired more easily.  
  
During the second month of John's waiting period, the caseload at the VCTF was steady, but not nearly as smothering as it had been while John and Sam had first been dating. For the moment, Sam, Bailey and George were in Nebraska working on a case, while John and Grace remained in Atlanta, helping out on a local investigation.  
  
"How's everything at home?" Sam asked, her voice echoing over the phone. Since they had flown to Nebraska, she and John had spoken on the phone each night.  
  
John shrugged unconsciously. "About the same as before. I'm not even sure why I'm working on it. The local boys are doing a pretty good job without a babysitter."  
  
"I believe," Sam reminded him, "that you're there to help Grace." Sitting on the bed in her hotel room, Sam twirled the telephone cord around her finger. "Remember?"  
  
"An explanation that makes no sense, but yes I remember," John said, a hint of humor in his voice.  
  
Sam laughed softly, and changed the subject. "How's Chloe?"  
  
"She's great. Although I think she is ready for you to come back as much as I am."  
  
"What, is your impromptu slumber party getting boring?" Sam kidded.  
  
John took the bait and laughed. "Well, we've already had the water balloon fight in the living room. And I think she's eaten all the chocolate I can lay my hands on." He paused, and glanced toward the upstairs before saying. "What else is left to do?"  
  
"Sometimes I wonder who the grown up is," Sam joked, laughing.  
  
John stood up, and began to walk around the quiet living room. It was after Chloe's bed time and his voice was the only noise to be heard. "That would be you, I believe," he replied, glancing out of a window. "You can't tell me you don't agree."  
  
"You're awful." She laughed, just listening to the sound of his voice. She had stopped playing with the phone cord, and was instead absent-mindedly playing with her engagement ring. "But I love you," she said softly.  
  
John could see his reflection in the windowpane, complete with a sad smile on his face. "I know," he said, almost in a whisper. "I love you, too."  
  
Sam sighed, able to hear a distant air in John's voice. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"I'm just tired of doing all the work back here by myself," he joked, forcing a laugh and avoiding her question. In truth, he wished she wasn't so far away while he was still feeling fairly well.  
  
Sam laughed half-heartedly. "I'm not so sure Grace would agree with you."  
  
"You women always stick together," he muttered around a laugh.  
  
Sam smiled, glad to hear a true humor back in his voice. "And you men just love to complain about it."  
  
John thought for a minute. "You haven't mentioned how your case is coming."  
  
"I've come up with a profile, it's just fitting the name to the description at this point." Leaning back onto the pillows, Sam yawned before continuing. "Although George thinks he's got a lead. We should know more in the morning."  
  
John let the curtains fall closed and walked back over to the couch. "It sounds like I should let you go so you can get some sleep."  
  
"It's all right," Sam said, stifling another yawn behind her hand. "I'm fine. That is, unless you need to go get your beauty sleep."  
  
John could hear Sam laugh, and smiled. "Are you implying I need beauty sleep, Sam?"  
  
"Never," she kidded. "I promise. You're perfect."  
  
Grinning, John began to laugh. "Well, I guess I have to trust your judgement. After all, I do love listening to my adoring public."  
  
"Everyone needs a groupie, I suppose." She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Or an ego, and you've definitely got the second one covered."  
  
Laying down on the couch, John propped the phone up against his cheek. "Ouch, she shoots and she scores."  
  
They were both silent for a few long minutes, listening to little but the other breathing. "I better go."  
  
John replied, a smile on his face. "Have good dreams."  
  
"Love you. Good night."  
  
"'Night, Sam. Love you, too."  
  
John listened to the click on the line as Sam hung up the phone. After a moment, he turned the phone off and dropped it on the coffee table. Without meaning to, he dozed off on the couch.  
  
The next thing John knew, he was hearing sounds coming from the kitchen. Alert, he sat up slowly. The first thing he noticed was that it was morning, the second thing he saw was Chloe, in her pajamas, standing in the kitchen doorway.  
  
"I made breakfast!" she announced. "Come on, you've got to eat if you want to get to work on time."  
  
Grinning, John followed Chloe back into the kitchen. "And what are we having this morning, kiddo?"  
  
"Toast," she said, handing John a plate. "It's the only thing I can make." She took a bite out of a piece, a thoughtful look on her face. Chloe looked at John, who had sat down beside her at the table. "You've got dark circles under your eyes."  
  
"Think your mom would mind me borrowing her makeup?" John joked, a grin on his face. The truth was, he was staying tired, and the circles seemed to be a result.  
  
Chloe laughed. "Probably as long as you don't use her lipstick."  
  
"Thanks for the warning," he replied, finishing his toast. "Now, speaking of being late. Shouldn't you get dressed, too?"  
  
"I'm going, I'm going," she said, putting her plate in the sink. "You sound just like Mom." Giggling, she ran up to her room.  
  
Half an hour later, Chloe had just left for the bus stop and John had just finished getting dressed. He was about to walk out the door when the phone rang.  
  
"Hello?" he answered.  
  
"We've got another one," Grace said over the phone. "Can you meet me at the crime scene?"  
  
"Just tell me where," he said, grabbing his jacket. "I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said after she gave him the address.  
  
***  
  
They had been at the crime scene for almost an hour when Grace glanced at the darkening sky. "It looks like it's going to rain."  
  
After a quick glance skyward, John nodded his head. "How soon can we move the body? The last thing we need is something washing away."  
  
"Give me ten minutes and I think I'll have it stabilized." She glanced around at the uniformed officers on the scene. "Have the local guys had time to go over the site?" she asked, kneeling next to the body.  
  
"I think so," John replied. "Hold on, I'll find out where we stand." John walked through the officers, and returned after speaking with the officer in charge. "Jim thinks they're about done," he said, kneeling next to Grace.  
  
Nodding, Grace stood. The rain that had been threatening finally began to fall. "I'll go tell them to bring the stretcher."  
  
"What's that?" John muttered, spotting something lying not far from the body. Whatever it was, it was stuck. When John reached to tug on it with both hands, he felt a prick on his right hand. "Damn," he swore, his hand recoiling.  
  
"What's wrong?" Grace asked, as the body was loaded up for transport.  
  
John shook his hand. "I saw something, or I thought I saw something. When I tried to pick it up, something jabbed me."  
  
Kneeling down, Grace looked at where John had broken the piece of metal free. "It looks like it might be something, but I have no idea what it was stuck to." Pulling out an evidence bag, she dropped it inside. Looking around for what had stuck John, she finally saw the culprit.   
  
She picked up an old syringe, holding it for John to see. "You should be more careful, John." Her eyes were open wide as she glanced up at John. "This could be serious."  
  
John's eyes widened and his breath caught for a second. He found himself wondering if things could get any worse.  
  
"Did it break through your glove?" Grace asked, referring to the thick latex gloves they all wore at crime scenes.  
  
Looking closely at his hand, John nodded. "Enough to barely scratch me."  
  
"When we get back to the office, I'll take a blood sample and make sure you're all right," Grace said, placing the syringe into another evidence bag. "Sam will kill me if I let something happen to you while she's away." Although trying to smile, she wasn't able to pull it off.  
  
Realization struck John just as Grace turned to walk to her car. If she did a blood work up, she was likely to find out his secret. "That's okay, Grace," he said quickly, walking fast to catch up with her. "I'll just get my doctor to check it out."  
  
Opening her car door, Grace replied, "There's no reason to go to that kind of trouble John, I can do the test just as easy. I can probably get the results faster."  
  
"Grace . . ." Even while he tried to protest, John recognized the stubborn look on Grace's face.  
  
Getting into her car, she said, "No arguments, John. I'll see you back at the office in five minutes." After another moment, she closed her door before John could respond.  
  
***  
  
"That wasn't so bad was it?" Grace asked, putting a band-aid on John's arm.  
  
John smiled, silently hoping that she wouldn't do a complete work up on the sample she had just drawn. "Nope, little needle like that doesn't scare me."  
  
Grace laughed. "I should hope not. It's the other kind that are scary."  
  
Although he knew she was referring to the needle from the crime scene, it was yet another type of needle that he immediately thought of. The kind that Doctor Thompson used when he checked him every week.  
  
Grace looked at John, who was lost in thought, for a moment. She patted his arm. "I'll get on this right away and let you know what I find. Okay?"  
  
John nodded. "Thanks, Grace." With that, he picked up his jacket and walked back to his desk.  
  
John was still sitting at his desk when Grace walked up and dropped a folder onto the desk's surface. "What did Doctor Jordan want to talk to you about after your physical?" Her voice was confrontational, her hands on her hips.  
  
Glancing up at Grace, John rubbed his eyes tiredly. "So I didn't test positive for HIV?"  
  
Shaking her head, Grace pulled a chair over from an empty desk and said, "No, and neither did the needle that stuck you. So you shouldn't have to retest in the future." Grace waited a moment, letting that news sink in. "So? Are you going to tell me, or not?"  
  
John recognized the determined posture that Grace was presenting him with, but he also was able to read the concern in her dark eyes. "He called because of something that showed up in the blood work from my physical."  
  
"And?" Grace asked, although she already knew the answer.  
  
"And . . ." John looked at his hands for a moment before meeting Grace's gaze. "He sent me to an oncologist, Doctor Thompson, who did another test. Which came back positive for non-Hodgkin's lymphoma."  
  
Although what she had seen in the blood sample she had drawn had told her this might be the case, she wasn't prepared to hear him admit it. "John . . ." Her mouth dropped open, and her hands fell to her sides. "I'm sorry." John nodded, but didn't say anything. "When do you go for treatment?"   
  
"In about two more months I should start chemotherapy," he said, sitting back in his chair, but keeping his voice low. "Until then, we wait."  
  
"How's Sam taking it?" she asked. "She's kept as quiet as you have."  
  
John smiled sadly and shook his head. "She doesn't know, Grace. And I intend to keep it that way."  
  
"John Grant, how dare you!" Grace said forcefully and loudly. John made frantic shushing noises with his hands, and she dropped her voice. "How can you keep something this important from your fiance?"  
  
"I just can't tell her, Grace," he said, shaking his head. "I'd do anything not to hurt her."  
  
Grace blinked slowly, and took a deep breath, trying to calm down, before replying. "That includes lying to her?"  
  
"She's happy." He tried to explain, but doubted Grace would see the logic behind his action. "I want her to be happy for as long as possible."  
  
"That's sweet John," Grace said, her voice betraying her shock. "However, when is she going to find out?" She fought the urge to start pacing. "When you go into the hospital? When you come home with your hair falling out from treatment? This isn't something you can hide."  
  
"I haven't thought that far ahead."   
  
Grace sighed, placing her hand on John's arm. "She loves you, John. Let her be there for you. You'll only hurt her more in the end if you shut her out."  
  
Blinking, John said, "I refuse to hurt her the way Tom did, Grace. I'll do whatever I have to, to make sure that doesn't happen."  
  
"It's not fair, John. To her, to Chloe or to you. You shouldn't have to deal with this alone."  
  
John laughed humorlessly. "Tell me about it, Grace. I finally find a life I love and two days later I find out that I might lose it." He smirked, a cold humor in his eyes. "Life's a bitch, isn't it?"  
  
Grace closed her eyes. "You should tell her." She paused, running a hand over her face. "John, now that I know, *I* should tell her."  
  
"You can't." His voice radiating alarm, John half jumped out of his seat. "If anyone tells her, it has to be me."  
  
Grace sat there a minute before nodding. "You're right about that. However, she deserves to know, and you don't plan to tell her. You're lucky that Sam's in Nebraska, or I probably would have brought this up with both of you."  
  
John nodded, and sat up straight in his chair, with his elbows resting on his knees. "No one wishes she was here more than I do Grace. The longer she's away the more time I feel like I've lost."  
  
***  
  
"Hey there stranger," Sam said, walking up to John at his desk. It had been a week since Grace had found out about his being sick and the case in Nebraska had just ended.  
  
Looking up, John's face broke into a smile. "Hey there, yourself." Standing, he pulled Sam into a warm hug. "I missed you," he said quietly.  
  
Sam smiled, John's quiet side still surprised her occasionally. "I missed you, too." Pulling from the embrace, Sam asked, "Want to go to lunch?"  
  
John nodded. "Just let me grab my jacket and we'll go."  
  
"Good, meet me in my office, okay?"  
  
As he watched her walk to her office, John smiled. He felt better just by having her back home. A few seconds later, John knocked on Sam's door. "Ready to go?"  
  
"Let's go."  
  
Conversation during lunch was light, each of them enjoying the chance to be together in person again. "I was thinking," John said, taking a bite of his hamburger. "Maybe you, Chlo and me should go out tonight. Kinda a welcome home thing."  
  
Sam took a sip of her iced tea before responding. "I was more looking forward to a night at home, just the three of us."  
  
John smiled. "That sounds great, too. I know Chloe will be happy you're home."  
  
"I'll be glad to see her, too," Sam said. "But I'll admit I didn't feel as bad being away for so long since you were here." She took a bite of her caesar salad. "Did you two have a good time? Is the house still standing?"  
  
"No, Mom, we didn't have any parties and the house is still in one piece," he said with a laugh, and took a drink of his Coke. "Sam, she's a great kid and we had fun. That doesn't mean we're not glad you're back."  
  
Sam smiled. "Thank you."  
  
***   
  
A few hours later, dinner was over and Sam, Chloe and John settled down to watch a movie. "What did you rent?" Chloe asked, looking up at John.  
  
Pressing play on the remote, John pointed at Sam. "I didn't pick it out, your mom did."  
  
"Well, Mom?" Chloe asked, glancing over at her mother.  
  
"Well," Sam started. "I know how much you used to talk about Leo," she said with a wink. "And since John made me watch Star Wars . . ."  
  
Chloe grinned. "You're going to make him watch Titanic?"  
  
"You still like it, right?" Sam asked, hoping she had picked a movie Chloe would enjoy. When Chloe smiled and nodded, Sam laughed. "Good, I was worried that I'd messed up."  
  
"Titanic?" John asked a minute later. "You didn't tell me it was another chick flick." He whined, rolling his eyes. However, the effect was lost when he started grinning.  
  
Sam smiled, and laid her head on his shoulder after he put his arm around her shoulders. "I liked Star Wars," she said. "You never know, you might like this."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that."   
  
***  
  
Two weeks after Sam came back from Nebraska was Christmas. For John, the holidays had never been a very big deal. This year, however, Sam was determined to see that they had a traditional family Christmas.  
  
On Christmas Eve, John accompanied Sam and Chloe to Christmas mass. It was the first time since before his mom had died that he went to a holiday service. In a way, it made him feel more of a connection to her. After the mass, they went back to the house.  
  
"What do you want for Christmas, John?" Chloe asked as she helped him secure the stockings on the wall above the fireplace.  
  
John grinned, playing it straight. "Maybe a girlfriend?"  
  
"John," Chloe exaggerated. "You already have one of those."  
  
"Oh yeah, almost forgot." He winked at Chloe, causing her to giggle. "So, what did you ask for?"  
  
"Well," Chloe said, practically hopping from foot to foot. "There's this giant stuffed teddy bear at the mall that I showed Mom."  
  
Kneeling down in front of Chloe, John laughed. "I've seen your room, kiddo. Do you really need another teddy bear?"  
  
"But he's bigger than I am!" Chloe exclaimed, holding her arms out to the sides.  
  
Laughing, John glanced at the fire and stood. "Hey, Chlo, would you get my coat out of the closet? I need to go get some more firewood."  
  
Nodding, Chloe skipped over to the closet just off of the living room. John grinned when she gasped after opening the door. "John, come look!" Pointing inside the closet excitedly.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, hurrying over. "A burglar?"  
  
"It's my bear!" she exclaimed, struggling to remove the large bear from the closet.  
  
John walked up behind her and helped her remove the bear. Once they had it free, Chloe wrapped her arms around it. "I wonder how he got here?"  
  
Grinning, Chloe turned and threw her arms around John's waist, giving him a hug. "Thank you, John. It's the best present ever!"  
  
Returning her hug, John ruffled her hair. "So I did good then?" When Chloe nodded, still smiling, John added, "Now let's just hope I don't get in trouble for giving him to you tonight instead of tomorrow."  
  
As John watched, Chloe managed to maneuver the bulky bear over beside the large fir Christmas tree. "I'll leave him here for tonight," she said once he was in place. "That way, Mom can't complain."  
  
"That way Mom can't complain about what?" Sam asked, walking into the living room carrying three mugs of hot chocolate.  
  
Taking one of the glasses from Sam, John grinned. "That she managed to sneak one present early."  
  
Handing the other mug to Chloe, Sam finally saw the teddy bear. "Wow, Chlo. He's a monster."  
  
"Isn't it great?" she asked, her face beaming. "It's just like the one I showed you, too."  
  
"Imagine that," Sam said quietly, her half-smile hidden behind her mug. Stealing a glance at John, she gestured toward the bear, and in return he merely shrugged and smiled.  
  
Later, after Chloe was tucked away in bed, Sam and John curled up on the couch. "So what have you thought of Christmas so far?" Sam asked over the soft Christmas music that was playing on the stereo.  
  
"I think it's great," John said, kissing Sam on the top of the head.  
  
Smiling, Sam said, "I'm glad. I know Chloe is loving all of the extra attention."  
  
"So am I, believe, me," he laughed softly. "This beats last year's sitting at home watching the Disney parade by a landslide."  
  
Sam turned to face John. "*You* watched the Disney parade?"  
  
"Okay, so I was watching football," he admitted, with a grin. "The other sounded better."  
  
Laying her head back down, she smiled. "Yes, but that sounds much more like you." After a moment's pause, she asked, "How did you know about the bear?"  
  
"You don't mind do you?" he asked, having not mentioned it to her before buying it for Chloe.  
  
Sam shook her head. "No, I just don't remember mentioning it."  
  
John rubbed his hand on Sam's hair absently. "You didn't, I overheard her saying something to you about it." Laughing, he continued, "The clerk at the toy store thought I was crazy, it took almost an hour to make sure I had the right bear."  
  
Sam smiled, touched by John's gesture towards Chloe. "We're lucky to have you, you know," she said softly.  
  
"Not as lucky as I am. Besides," he continued, "I loved seeing her reaction to finding it in the closet."  
  
"I know. I heard her from the kitchen."  
  
John smiled. "Good acting job."  
  
"Well," she said, taking one of John's hands in her own. "I've had years of practice."  
  
At her words, spoken innocently enough, John felt a twinge in his stomach. Years were something he had begun to doubt he would have a chance to enjoy. In fact, he forced himself to admit, he was doing his best to commit the entire holiday to memory. There was no way to know if there would be another chance.  
  
***  
  
Instead of the two more months that the doctor had predicted, it was just over a month later when John heard the words he had been dreading. Two weeks after Christmas, everything changed.  
  
"It's time to move on and start the chemotherapy," Doctor Thompson said during John's weekly visit. "You've reached the point I was waiting for."  
  
John nodded slowly, but his mind was running a mile a minute in denial. "You said four months, it's only been three."  
  
The doctor shook his head, and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. "I was hoping it would be closer to four months, John. It's just progressed faster than I initially anticipated." John swallowed audibly, but just stared at his hands. "As you asked, I've looked into treatment centers outside of Atlanta."  
  
"What did you find?" John asked, forcing himself to sit up straight and face it head on. The week before, he had made a preliminary decision to look into leaving Atlanta for the chemotherapy. He was hoping to spare Sam having to suffer through it as well. He had never expected to need it so soon.  
  
Doctor Thompson picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to John. "There are several options on there, but the one I would recommend is in Buffalo, New York."  
  
"How soon would I have to leave?" he asked, reading the information about the Tucker Treatment Center in Buffalo.  
  
During his checkups, Doctor Thompson had begun to realize what was happening with John, and looked understandingly at the young man. "It's Thursday now. I would recommend that you check in at Tucker by this time next week. I've spoken with them already and I'll make sure that they know to expect you then."  
  
John nodded, just finishing skimming the information about Tucker. "Thank you, Doctor."  
  
"How will you arrange it with your work? The treatment will probably several weeks at the least."  
  
Folding the paper he carefully put it in his jacket pocket. "I have quite a bit of vacation time, I'll just call in a few favors and use it."  
  
Nodding, Doctor Thompson stood. "I wish you the best, Agent Grant."  
  
John shook the doctor's offered hand. "Thanks again for your help," John said sincerely. With that, he turned and walked out of the office.  
  
An hour later, he was at his seldom used apartment making plans for the weekend.  
  
***  
  
After dinner that night, while they were washing the dishes, John finally worked up the nerve to approach Sam about the weekend. "Sam?" he asked her, drying a plate. When she glanced at him, he continued. "What would you say to going up to my cabin for the weekend?"  
  
Sam half-smiled. "What brought this up?" she asked, handing him another plate.  
  
Shrugging, John busied himself drying the plate. "I thought it would be fun. A chance for the three of us to get away from the city for a day or two."  
  
"Sounds nice." She smiled. "Considering the last time you took me to the cabin," she said with a wink.  
  
Reaching over, John put the plate on a shelf, grinning. "Well, I can't guarantee quite that atmosphere."  
  
"Just as well," she laughed. "You probably would burn the place down this time."  
  
Finished with the dishes, Sam and John walked into the living room. "So do you want to drive up after work?" Sam asked, sitting down next to Chloe.  
  
Nodding, John sat next to Sam. "That was my thought."  
  
"Drive up where?" Chloe asked, her curiosity piqued.  
  
"What do you say to a weekend at John's cabin, Chlo?" Sam asked, brushing a lock of hair out of Chloe's eyes.  
  
Chloe's face brightened. "Really? Can we go stargazing?"  
  
John nodded. "Sure we can."  
  
"Great," Chloe said with a grin. "We've been studying some of the constellations in school."  
  
"Then you'll probably be able to teach John a thing or two," Sam joked, winking at John.  
  
John laughed. "You're just worried you'll be embarrassed if you're the only one who doesn't know any."  
  
"How long will we be there?" Chloe asked.  
  
"Till Sunday afternoon," John replied, ruffling her hair. "Then you have to come back to school."  
  
"Do you have a telescope?" Chloe asked, suddenly full of questions.  
  
Nodding, John said, "Sure do."  
  
Suddenly Chloe frowned. "Do we really have to wait until tomorrow?"  
  
"'Fraid so, kid," Sam responded with a grin.  
  
***  
  
It was not quite dusk when John pulled the car to a stop in front of the cabin. "Everybody out," he said, killing the engine.  
  
Chloe was the first out of the car, her door slamming behind her. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she ran up to the porch. "Neat cabin, John," she said, waiting for him to unlock the door.  
  
"Thanks." John held the door open for Chloe and Sam.  
  
Walking inside, Sam laughed. "Wow, there's so much light in here."  
  
"Yeah," he said with a wink. "Good ole Thomas Edison, huh?"  
  
Sam smiled, and gave John a kiss on the cheek. "Between him and Grace I'd say we're set either way." Turning, she saw Chloe on the far side of the living room look out at the lake. "Come on, Chlo. Let's go put these bags up."  
  
"I can do that," John said, reaching out a hand.  
  
Sam shook her head. "I've got it. You go make dinner."  
  
"Me? Cook?" John asked, holding a hand against his chest in shock. "You think I know how?"  
  
"Hey, we're roughing it," Sam said with a laugh as she disappeared into the bedroom. "That means you're cooking."  
  
"Gee, thanks," he said with a laugh, as he walked into the kitchen.  
  
Later that night, the three of them were laying on a blanket on a stretch of grass near the cabin. "What's that one?" John asked, pointing at a group of stars with his free arm. Chloe was had her head laying on his chest, while Sam's head was pillowed on his other shoulder.  
  
Chloe thought for a minute. "Draco, I think."  
  
"The dragon," Sam observed sleepily.  
  
"How'd you know?" Chloe asked.  
  
John laughed. "She saw Dragonheart is my bet."  
  
Sam yawned, but didn't respond. "There's Orion," Chloe said, pointing at a particular grouping in the sky.  
  
"That one I knew," John said. "I remember learning about that one when I was your age."  
  
"A long time ago?" Chloe asked with a giggle.  
  
"I'll teach you about a long time ago," John said, laughing as he tickled Chloe, who giggled helplessly.  
  
***  
  
Chloe had been asleep for almost an hour and Sam was sitting in front of the fireplace when she noticed that John hadn't returned from going to the bathroom. Curious, she stood up and walked back toward the bedrooms.  
  
She found him standing in the doorway to the room that Chloe had claimed. Putting her arm around his waist, she whispered, "What are you doing?"  
  
"Just watching."   
  
When he didn't elaborate, she looked up into his face. "You look like you're a million miles away."  
  
He smiled as he shook his head. "I'm right where I want to be," he said, and kissed the top of her head. "For some reason, I just wanted to watch her sleep."  
  
"I used to do that all the time when she was little," Sam said. "Partly to be sure she was okay. And partly to make a memory . . ." She paused. "Watching her, I guess so that if anything ever happened and I couldn't be with her, I had one perfect image of her in my mind. Laying there, with a smile on her face and clutching that worn teddy bear. It probably sounds strange."  
  
John shook his head imperceptibly. "It makes perfect sense. I just would have never understood it until now."  
  
"Why's that?" she asked, her gaze still on Chloe so that she missed the rush of emotions that filled his eyes before he closed them.  
  
*Because that's what I'm doing,* he thought, *When I'm in hell, this will be one of the things I remember.* Instead of saying this, however, he just said, "I've never been a parent, Sam, or anything close to one. Believe it or not," he said, laughing dryly, "this is a dry run."  
  
Sam smiled, and leaned up to kiss John. Pulling back afterward, she whispered, "Then you're a natural." Reaching out, she pulled the door to Chloe's room shut. Taking John's hand, she led him back into the den.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts," John said, after they had been in the den for a little while.  
  
Sam smiled softly. "I was just thinking how great the past few months have been."  
  
John smiled bitter sweetly. He found himself wanting to agree with her, and yet not able to completely. Every trip to see Doctor Thompson, the constant worry that the next time it would be time to leave had been draining him for some time. It had also been getting harder to hide it at work.  
  
The last time he had been forced to chase down a fleeing suspect, he had almost given himself away. He was as good of a cop as ever, only now he got tired more and more easily, lost his breath more easily. If anyone had noticed, they didn't say anything. He was still glad that Grace hadn't been there.  
  
Unsure how to respond, he finally managed to say in a rough voice, "Bet you never expected that when you offered to cut my hair."  
  
Laughing quietly, Sam shook her head. "Probably not. But I would have been a lot more open to the idea then, rather than when we first met."  
  
"Yeah, but you were pretty tightly wound at the time. You had to warm up to me first."  
  
"Well, you definitely help me unwind," she kidded, her eyes blinking more and more slowly.  
  
John squeezed her hand. "All part of the service."  
  
***  
  
The next day was a sunny, crisp winter day. Dressed in sweaters and jackets, they hiked out into the woods surrounding the cabin. Over the next several hours they pushed through the foliage and watched the animals, which hadn't retreated for the brief southern winter, play in the forest.  
  
"Hey, kiddo," John said on the hike back. "Want to ride on my shoulders for a little while?"  
  
"Sure!" she said, excitedly.  
  
Sam glanced at John. "Are you sure? She's heavier than she looks."  
  
"Sure I'm sure," he said, kneeling down so that Chloe could climb up on his back. "Ready?" he asked once she was settled.  
  
Chloe nodded, and started giggling. "Giddy-up."  
  
"What am I? A horse?" he asked, laughing as he walked.  
  
"A very good looking one, anyway," Sam interjected, grinning.  
  
Shaking his head, John muttered, "Tag teaming against me now, I swear."  
  
"Would we do that to you?" Sam managed to stay straight-faced. When John opened his mouth, she interrupted him. "Wait, don't answer that." Chloe, for her part, started giggling again.  
  
A little while later, John stopped walking and said. "Okay, kiddo. The horse stops here."  
  
"Already?" she asked, having a good time riding on John's shoulders.  
  
"Sorry, little one. I'm beat," he said truthfully, hiding the true extent of the comment behind a grin.  
  
As Chloe climbed down from John's shoulders, Sam watched, surprised by how tired John really did look. Full of energy, Chloe ran ahead of them through the woods. Taking the opportunity, Sam walked next to John. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," he lied. Taking her hand, he watched Chloe running ahead. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "You just look tired, that's all."  
  
"Nah," he said with a shake of his head. "Just needed a break."  
  
Sam nodded, although not completely convinced, she let it drop. Glancing ahead in the forest, she laughed. "I think Chloe has left us behind."  
  
"Wouldn't surprise me," John said, grinning. "She's got more energy than the two of us combined."  
  
***  
  
"Who wants steak?" John asked. They had been back at the cabin for a couple of hours, and it was almost dinner time.  
  
Chloe looked up from where she was playing with a jump rope. "You don't have chicken?" she asked. John opened his mouth, but saw the twinkle in her eye. "Gotcha." Giggling, she added, "I like steak."  
  
"Kiddo," John laughed, "you've got a twisted sense of humor."  
  
Sam, having walked up toward the end of the conversation rolled her eyes. "Gee, wonder where she picked it up from?"  
  
"Are you saying that *I* could be that influence?" John asked, a look of innocence on his face.  
  
Laughing, Sam shook her head. "Just cook the steaks."  
  
For John, the weekend, as with the past few months, passed too quickly. Before he knew it, they were tucking Chloe in that Saturday night. It had become a habit for both of them to tuck her in, and John had found himself looking forward to it, especially on bad days.  
  
"I love you, kiddo," John whispered, leaning over to kiss Chloe on the tip of the nose.  
  
Chloe giggled, like she always did when John kissed her on the nose, and grinned. "Love you, too."  
  
"'Night, Chlo," Sam said, tucking the covers in around her. "Sweet dreams."  
  
"'Night, Mom. Love you," Chloe replied, her eyes drooping closed.  
  
Sam smiled. "I love you too, baby," she said before taking John's hand and quietly leaving the room. Pulling the door closed behind them, she asked, "Want to go sit on the deck?"  
  
John put his arm around her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan." They were almost to the door when stopped. "Go on out, I'll be there in a minute." Sam looked at him, a puzzled look in her eyes, but went outside anyway.   
  
A minute later, he appeared on the deck, carrying a portable radio. "Thought we might like some music," he said as he plugged in the radio.  
  
A second later, music drifted quietly through the night. Sitting down next to Sam on a bench, John put his arm back around her shoulders. "I'm glad we came here," Sam said, looking at the stars that filled the sky overhead. "You don't get scenery like this in the city."  
  
"A good thing about being in the middle of nowhere," John said with a grin. "You realize that there are more than four stars out there."  
  
Sam tilted her head to the side, thinking. "You know what we've never done?"  
  
With a faint grin on his face, John asked, "What would that be?"  
  
"We've never danced," she said, smiling. "Every couple should dance, John. It's in the rules."  
  
"Rules?" John asked, fighting the urge to laugh.  
  
Sam pulled on John's hand. "You know, that book no one reads. What do you say?"  
  
John smiled, standing, he held out his hand. "May I have this dance?" After Sam stood, and they were swaying arm in arm, John grinned. "You're not subtle, are you?"  
  
"Sometimes subtlety is overrated."   
  
Sam was resting her cheek on his shoulder when he felt her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked.  
  
He felt her nod. "A little bit."  
  
"Just a second," John said, breaking free of the embrace. "I'll get you a blanket." When he returned, he was carrying an afghan. "Here you go." Unfolding it, he pulled it around her shoulders. "Better?"  
  
"Much," she said, wrapping her arms back around his waist.  
  
Leaning forward, John kissed the top of Sam's head. "Good." For the next few moments, neither said anything. The music continued to play in the background, but the two people on the deck were oblivious to anything but each other.  
  
Neither knew how much time had passed when Sam lifted her head from John's chest. In a moment, their eyes met. John leaned down and their lips met in a soft kiss.  
  
Sam reached her hands up to the collar of John's shirt, and his hands circled her waist as the kiss deepened. The afghan fell from Sam's shoulders onto the bench, unnoticed.  
  
When they broke away from the kiss, both Sam and John were breathing hard. John reached a hand up to cup Sam's face, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheekbone. John's gaze searched Sam's smoky eyes, wanting to remember the way the light from inside made the blue shine. "Sam . . ." he said, before she pulled his head down to hers.  
  
Unlike the last kiss, this one was intense and left both of them gasping for air. "For once, John," Sam said, "I don't want to think."  
  
A faint smile on his lips, John held her chin in both his hands and kissed her on the forehead. "You're beautiful, do you know that?" he whispered in her ear.  
  
In response, she laughed. "I like your taste." Wrapping her hands around the back of his head, she started kissing his jawbone.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" John asked, trying with what little will he had left to keep things from getting out of hand.  
  
"John? Shut up and kiss me."  
  
With a grin, he replied, "Yes, ma'am."  
  
A few moments later, John lowered them down onto the stuffed bench. Their eyes closed, both lost themselves in the moment.  
  
Sometime later, when the moon was high in the sky, John and Sam lay on the bench wrapped up in the once-forgotten afghan. Sam, her hair splayed against John's bare chest, sighed softly in her sleep, a small smile on her face.  
  
While Sam slept, John lay there watching her. One hand was playing with her hair, while the other rubbed across her back. He listened as she breathed steadily, and watched as her eyes darted under the lids and knew her to be lost in dreams.  
  
As he lay there, he thought of being forced to leave in a few days. Emotions that he'd only felt when his mom had been killed tore at his heart. Leaning down, he kissed the top of Sam's head and brushed away the tear that had rolled down his cheek and onto her hair.   
  
For every thought that went through his mind as he held her, the only one that stayed with him was what Sam had said the night before about making a memory. Because for a brief moment, his life had finally found a peace it had always lacked.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, the pink of dawn was just beginning to streak across the sky when Sam roused from sleep. "Good morning," he said, kissing her gently.  
  
"Good morning." Looking down, she smiled. "I'm guessing Chloe isn't up yet."  
  
John laughed softly. "She's as bad at mornings as I am. Much less getting up at dawn." Giving Sam the afghan, John reached over and grabbed his blue jeans and pulled them on. Winking, he said, "But either way we better get dressed."  
  
Sam nodded, and stood, the afghan wrapped around her. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed John. "What was that for?" he asked with a smile.  
  
"Just because," she said with a wink before gathering her clothes and disappearing inside the cabin. John watched her walk inside before following her. First he ducked into the bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes before changing in the bathroom. Then he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.  
  
When Sam walked into the kitchen, she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. "The coffee smells good," she said, taking an offered cup from John.  
  
"Coffee I can manage," he grinned, taking a drink. A second later, he asked, "Care to watch the sunrise?"  
  
Sam smiled. "I'd love to."  
  
They walked outside and found a spot next to the cabin where they could see through the forest. Over the next few moments, the sun peeked above the rolling foothills of the Appalachians.  
  
They had only been back from watching the sunrise for an half an hour when Sam heard Chloe stirring in her bedroom. "I think someone else is finally awake," she said with a grin.  
  
"Bound to have happened eventually," John joked from the kitchen, where he was busy scrambling eggs for breakfast. A few minutes later, Chloe walked into the kitchen. "Morning, kiddo."  
  
"Hi," she said around a yawn. Walking over to the table, Chloe sat down in one of the wood chairs. "What's for breakfast?"  
  
John grinned. "Scrambled eggs and toast."  
  
"The only thing you can make!" Chloe giggled, slowly becoming more awake.  
  
Finishing the toast, John grinned as he muttered, "Boy, you give and you give and what do you get . . ."  
  
"Breakfast?" Chloe asked with a coy grin on her face.  
  
Surprised by her remark, John laughed and dropped the piece of toast he was fixing. Picking up the ruined toast, he pretended to hand it to Chloe. "I think this is your piece."  
  
"John . . ." she said, laughing.  
  
John laughed. "You're right. We'll give it to your mom."  
  
Chloe was giggling when Sam walked in the room. "Whatever you two were planning, forget about it," she said, smiling.  
  
"What do you mean planning?" John asked, straight-faced.  
  
She pointed at Chloe. "I know that giggle. It means trouble." She laughed. "Strange how it happens so much more when you're around."  
  
"I know," John said, sniffing and pretending to wipe his eye. "I'm so proud."  
  
***  
  
That afternoon, they drove back home. It wasn't quite dark when they arrived at the house, and Chloe went down the street to play with a friend. After John carried their bags inside, he made the decision that he had been dreading all weekend.  
  
"Sam?" he asked, walking into the living room. "Can I talk to you about something?"  
  
Sam looked up when John spoke, and nodded her head. "Always."  
  
John sat down on the couch and motioned for her to do the same. He waited until she had sat down before saying, "I wanted to tell you that tomorrow I'm going to talk to Bailey about taking some time off."  
  
Sam looked at him, her confusion showing on her face. "Time off? Why?"  
  
"There's just some stuff I need to do."   
  
"Stuff . . ." Sam repeated, not understanding. John mentally cringed at the hurt he saw flicker in her eyes.  
  
He nodded his head. "It's a long story."  
  
"I've got time."   
  
"It's just something I have to do on my own," he finished, hating the pain he saw in her eyes.  
  
Sam's gaze searched John's eyes, trying to read what was going on there. Angel's words from several months ago came rushing back. She shook her head, not willing to believe that he was running away. "You can't tell me what it's about?" she asked, needing to know what could make him so serious and willing to leave.  
  
"Sorry, Sam. It's just . . ."  
  
"Something you have to do on your own," she finished for him. "You said that."  
  
John nodded, fighting the urge to crawl under the couch. "It may take a little while, Sam," he said, squeezing her hand. "But I'll be back."  
  
Sam didn't move. "Then why do I see doubt in your eyes?"  
  
John blinked and bit his lip. *Because I can only hope that's true,* he thought. Out loud, he said, "Never doubt how I feel about you. And about Chloe. The two of you have become my entire world."  
  
"But you're leaving anyway?" she asked, hating the rare vulnerability she could hear in her voice.  
  
John lowered his gaze and nodded. "I have to."  
  
***  
  
During the morning briefing, Sam was more subdued than usual. John, sitting next to her, managed not to move during the entire meeting. On the other side of the table, both Grace and George noticed the difference.  
  
After the meeting was over, Grace stayed behind to talk to George. "What do you think happened?" George asked, watching Sam walk to her office and close the door behind her.  
  
"I've got an idea," Grace said, her eyes sad. "But it's too soon."  
  
"Too soon for what?" George asked, looking up at Grace, who was watching John walk toward Bailey's office.  
  
Grace shook her head. "Nothing. They probably just had a misunderstanding."  
  
"Them?" George asked with a laugh. "Doesn't seem very likely, does it?"  
  
"I guess not," Grace said, watching John disappear inside Bailey's office. She turned to George, and forced a smile. "Either way, nothing stays secret around this place for long, does it?" Even as she spoke, she knew of one secret that had managed to stay hidden far too long.  
  
"Ain't that the truth," George said, typing on his computer.  
  
Grace didn't respond, she was lost in thought. She did the math in her head and knew the two months John had told her about weren't up yet. Still, a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that was the case.  
  
"Earth to Grace." George waved a hand in front of her face.  
  
"Sorry?" she asked, blinking and focusing on George.  
  
Shaking his head, he replied, "Nothing. You were just on another planet there for a minute."  
  
"Just thinking about something." She closed the folders that were open in front of her. "I'm going to go see if Sam will tell me what's bothering her."  
  
George nodded, a half-grin on his face. "Go for it, for once they know something before we do."  
  
***  
  
A few minutes later, Grace knocked on Sam's door. "Can I come in?" she asked after pushing the door open.  
  
Sam looked up from the papers she was trying to make herself read, and sighed. Grateful for the distraction, she waved her in. "Sure. Just close the door behind you."  
  
Grace walked over and leaned against the edge of Sam's desk. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
Sam half-smiled. "You noticed?"  
  
"Chip in Processing noticed," she kidded lightly before growing serious. "I thought you were going to the cabin this weekend?"  
  
"We did," Sam said, nodding.  
  
"So what went wrong?"  
  
Fidgeting with her pen, Sam replied, "Nothing. The weekend was great."  
  
"Until?" Grace pressed.  
  
"Until last night." Sam dropped the pen on her desk. "And bang, he dropped a bomb on me."  
  
Grace nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "That he's leaving."  
  
Sam nodded, but jerked her attention to Grace when she realized what she had said. "How did you know?"  
  
"Just a guess," she said, trying to cover her slip. "Did he say why?"  
  
Sam shook her head. "Just that it was something he had to do, and that he would be back."  
  
"Do you believe him?" Grace asked, a sad look on her face.  
  
After a pause, Sam replied. "I want to, Grace. In a way, I need to."  
  
When Grace left Sam's office, she saw John walking from Bailey's office back to his desk. Before he could get there, she intercepted him. "Can I speak to you in my office?" she asked, careful to keep her voice low and stay out of Sam's line of sight.  
  
John nodded, well aware of what was coming.  
  
She waited until John had closed the door behind them to speak. "I'm guessing Doctor Thompson said it was time?" she asked softly.  
  
Nodding, John sat down on the worn couch that lined one wall. "I found out last Thursday."  
  
"What happened to two more months?" Grace asked, concerned.  
  
John shrugged. "It's going faster than he expected."  
  
"And this weekend? What was that?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against her desk.  
  
He rubbed his eyes tiredly before responding. "One last taste of perfect, I suppose."  
  
Grace found herself fighting the moisture that wanted to build up in her eyes. "Why don't you tell her, John?" The anger that she had been building since the meeting was dissipating into concern for her friends.  
  
"Because," he said, standing up and pacing in the small office. "If everything works out, I come back in a while and beg her to forgive me for disappearing. And if not . . ."  
  
"If not, then she doesn't have to suffer, too?" Grace asked. She remembered their last conversation well. When he nodded, she continued, "That's as much bull now as it was before, John. She needs to help you as much as you're going to need her."  
  
"Grace . . ."  
  
"Do you think she's not suffering already?" Grace said, ignoring his interruption. "You're both miserable. You're sick. It's cruel and it's horrible. And it's not fair, and it's not your fault, or anyone's fault. But your stubborn refusal to let her be a part of this, that *is* your fault."  
  
John smiled, surprising Grace, whose temper was growing hot. "I should've known that you would give it to me straight," he said, laughing humorlessly.  
  
"I should kick your butt is what I should do," she replied, trying to calm down.  
  
John sat back down. "I have no doubt you would try." He paused. "It's the best option, Grace. I told you before, I'll do whatever I have to make sure she isn't hurt."  
  
"And being left behind won't hurt her?" Grace asked, her arms crossed, but her voice softening when she saw the hurt flare in John's eyes.  
  
"She's strong, Grace, stronger than I am. In the end she'll be fine without me. This way, she just gets hurt less in the process."  
  
"John . . ." she said, pausing. "She's my friend, I have to tell her."  
  
"I do plan on coming back, Grace," he said, hoping he was speaking the truth. "And I'm not disappearing completely. It will be like when she was in Nebraska."  
  
Grace nodded. "With only a few more lies."  
  
John stood up and kissed her on the cheek, doing his best to ignore the pain her comment caused. "I'll be sure to tell you goodbye before I go."  
  
With that, he turned and left her office. For a moment, she just watched him walk away. When he was out of earshot, she mumbled, "I'm not so sure either of you will be completely fine without the other anymore."  
  
***  
  
"You're going away?" Chloe asked, her voice small.  
  
John nodded. "I'm afraid so, kiddo." It was Tuesday evening, and John's flight to Buffalo was the following afternoon. "But I'll call you, okay?"  
  
Chloe nodded sadly, her eyes watching the floor. "I just don't understand why you have to leave." She paused before looking up at him. "I don't want you to go."  
  
Sliding off the couch to sit next to Chloe on the floor, John pulled her into a one-arm hug. Chloe wrapped her arms around his waist and he kissed her on top of the head. A moment later he whispered, "I know, little one. I don't want to go either."  
  
"Then don't," Chloe said, her voice muffled by John's shirt. "Stay here with me and Mom."  
  
John sighed, and blinked slowly. Telling Chloe was as hard if not harder than telling Sam had been. "I wish I had that choice," he said almost imperceptibly.  
  
That night, John tucked Chloe in by himself. "You promise you'll come back?" she asked when John was sitting on the edge of her bed.  
  
John smiled. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."  
  
Chloe yawned, and blinked slowly. Sleepily, she said, "Don't forget. You promised."  
  
"I won't," he whispered, standing up.  
  
"Love you," she breathed, losing the fight to stay awake.  
  
John smiled, remembering the first time she had ever told him that. "I love you too, little one." After her eyes drifted shut, John walked over to stand in the doorway. Looking back at Chloe, he whispered, "I promise, Chlo. Only death itself could keep me away."  
  
***  
  
From where John stood next to the door, he could see the uncertain look on Sam's face. "So this is it," she said, crossing her arms.  
  
"It's not good bye, Sam," he said, reaching out his hand. He pulled it back, however, when she flinched at his touch. Not knowing what he could say to make it better, he pulled his bag over his shoulder. "I better go."  
  
Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. The more time she had to think about what was happening, she found herself alternating between hurt, sad and angry. "Then go," she said, immediately regretting the harsh edge in her voice.  
  
John nodded, understanding her anger. However, during it all, he kept reminding himself that it was for the best. "I love you, Sam."  
  
Overcome by the urge to laugh, she bit back the humorless noise. "Do you?"  
  
"More than life," he said, walking through the door.  
  
Sam watched as he climbed into his car and drove away. In a battle of emotions, stubbornness won out over despair. Closing the door, she said, "You have a funny way of showing it."  
  
***  
  
John had been gone for two days when he called Sam and Chloe for the first time. He was scheduled to begin his chemotherapy treatments the next morning.   
  
Chloe answered the phone. "Hey there, kiddo."  
  
"Hi John," she said, sounding down.  
  
John clenched the phone tighter, and replied quietly. "What's wrong, Chlo?"  
  
"I wish you were here," she replied, curling up on one end of the sofa. "Can you tell me where you are yet?" she asked when John didn't say anything.  
  
"Not yet." Trying to change the subject, he asked, "How's school going?"  
  
Chloe grinned. "I made an A on my math test!"  
  
"Good for you," John cheered. "I knew you'd do good on that."  
  
Chloe waited for a minute before asking, "There's a basketball tournament in a couple of weeks. Will you be back in time to watch me play?"  
  
John smiled, remembering the Sunday afternoons that they spent in the driveway working on her shots. "I doubt it, but I'll try. I can't promise though, okay?"  
  
"Okay," she replied. "Just as long as you keep your other promise." Before John could reply, he heard Chloe put her hand over the mouth piece. A second later she asked, "Do you want to talk to Mom?"  
  
"I do if she wants to talk to me," he said, still remembering the look on her face when he left.  
  
"Okay, here she is," Chloe said before handing the phone to Sam. "Love you," she added at the last second.  
  
A moment later, Sam took the phone. "How's everything going?"  
  
"Fine so far," he replied, non-committally. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine. Chloe and I were fixing to watch a movie."  
  
"Really? What are you going to watch?" John asked, grateful for the diversion.  
  
Sam smiled. "Star Wars, actually. I let her pick."  
  
"And to think you never wanted to see that," John kidded. "Now you're renting the video."  
  
Laughing softly, Sam replied, "Strange things happen, huh?"  
  
"Yeah," He grinned sadly. "Like us."  
  
Sam's smile faded. "Is there still an us?"  
  
"Always, Sam," he replied. A minute later, he said, "I better go, it's getting late and you have a movie to watch."  
  
"Good night, John."  
  
"Sweet dreams, Sam," he said, a wistful look on his face. Hanging the phone up, he climbed into bed.  
  
***  
  
Sunday night John had planned to call Sam and Chloe. However he underestimated how quickly the chemotherapy would begin to affect him. Instead, it was later that week before he was able to call and talk to them.  
  
During the next few weeks, John was in Buffalo, suffering through the side-effects of the chemotherapy, and Sam continued working in Atlanta. He called when he felt well enough to hide the pain in his voice, although at times it was hard to find the chance.  
  
Through the long nights, when it felt like the cells of his body were tearing each other apart, John focused on the memories he had from the few short months he had been apart of a family. Laying on his side one night, he saw the moon hanging high in the sky and smiled, remembering the night he held Sam outside the cabin.  
  
For Sam, every once in a while the ring on her hand would catch her attention. For a few seconds each time, she wouldn't be able to tear her gaze away from the three sparkling stones. In a way, it had always seemed to symbolize the three of them, she, Chloe and John. Now she didn't know what to think.  
  
The longer John was gone, the less often he called. She didn't have the number where he was at, but she wasn't sure she would call him if she did. Almost a month after he had left, and her heart, when she would let it, was still a fight between angry stubbornness and confused hurt. It was only made worse by the fact that each time she did speak with John, he sounded different. She couldn't place the odd sound to his voice, but couldn't help thinking that he sounded sick.  
  
Sitting at her desk, she glanced at the calendar, and remembered that it would be Valentine's day in two days. It was supposed to be their first Valentine's together, however, she had to wonder if they would even speak.  
  
The trip to buy Valentine's cards had been John's first chance to leave the treatment center since beginning his chemotherapy. They had put him on an aggressive treatment schedule, and most of the time he didn't have the energy to leave.  
  
He pulled a worn ball cap over his stubble-like new hair. His chemotherapy was over for about a week, and his hair was beginning to grow back. He was scheduled to meet with the doctor in just over a week to find out if the treatment had worked.   
  
Pushing that out of his mind, he set out in search of the perfect cards. Glad for the chance to be away, he spent over an hour scouring the various cards until he found just what he wanted. Just the year before, he had thought all of the Valentine's cards to be over-sentimental and over-done.  
  
He still had to laugh at some of the sappier cards, and was happy when he found the card that captured both the serious thoughts he wanted to convey, yet had the hint of humor that was truly his. Finding a card for Chloe was easier, and his search for a silly card that he knew she would like didn't take half the time.  
  
He purchased the two cards, and on his way back to the treatment center, he dropped them off at the post office. He knew it was taking a risk giving her the postmark. However, he wanted her to know that he was thinking of her, even though he hadn't been able to call her lately.  
  
By the day before Valentine's day, John hadn't called in over a week, and Sam had the sinking feeling he wasn't going to call again. Pushing the thoughts of what might have been out of her mind, she forced herself to concentrate on the work that needed to be done.  
  
When she got home from work, she checked the mail and was surprised to see a bright red and a pink envelope in the mailbox. Pulling them out, the first thing she recognized was the scribbled script on them. One was addressed to her, and the other to Chloe. She searched the cards for a return address, but was forced to settle for a postmark: Buffalo, New York.  
  
***  



	2. part two

Title: You'll Be With Me -- part two  
Author: kaly (razrbkr@juno.com)  
Homepage: Kalynn's Fan Fiction - XFiles, Profiler, Star Wars: TPM, Hercules, Young Hercules, Harry Potter, Xmen: http://www.geocities.com/kalyw  
Rating: PG  
Archive: pfa (if it's still accepting)  
Classification: angst, SJR  
Summary: Sam and John and a life together.  
  
disclaimer: once upon a time there were two characters and their names were sam and john. However, TPTB won't let them be together, and so for now believers can't live happily ever after. That is why we have fan fiction. The end. They are still not mine. However, I will gladly take John in the form of a donation! ;-)  
  
rating: PG (minor language and angst)  
  
  
You'll Be With Me  
  
  
"I don't understand, Grace," Sam said, after Grace had walked into her office the next morning at work. "First he says he has to leave, but he calls. Then he stops calling, but he sends Valentine's cards." She looked up at Grace's sympathetic eyes and sighed. "It doesn't make any sense."  
  
"I'm sure he has his reasons." She was fighting herself over whether or not to tell Sam the truth about what she knew. "Or he wouldn't have left."  
  
"Ran away, you mean," Sam said, tilting her head to the side.  
  
In the moment that followed, Grace made her decision. She could only hope that John forgave her. "He did have a reason, Sam."  
  
"What?" Sam asked, not following what Grace was saying. "How do you know?"  
  
Grace lowered her gaze, but looked back up at Sam. "I know why he left, I found out by accident."  
  
Sam blinked slowly. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't he tell me?"  
  
"He was scared of hurting you," Grace replied. "He made me promise not to tell you."  
  
A thousand different scenarios passed through Sam's mind. "Why did he leave, Grace? I need to know." However, she wasn't prepared for what Grace said next.  
  
"John's sick, Sam." Grace watched as the reaction played out on Sam's face.  
  
Shock hit her first. "He's sick?"  
  
Grace swallowed, and walked over to lean on the corner of Sam's desk. "He found out over four months ago that he has non-Hodgkin's lymphoma."  
  
Sam's eyes widened. "That's almost the entire time we've been engaged." She paused, and looked at Grace. "He never told me."  
  
Grace nodded. "I know. He loves you Sam. He thought if he kept it a secret you would be hurt less."  
  
"Do you know where he is?" Sam asked, her voice steady. "All I have is a postmark."  
  
Shaking her head, Grace stood up. "Let's go see what George can do."  
  
***  
  
"I found him," George said a couple of days later, walking into Sam's office.  
  
Sam looked up from the papers she was reading for the third time. "Where?"  
  
"Buffalo was right," George replied, sitting next in a chair next to Sam's desk. "He's at the Tucker Treatment Center there. The reason I was hitting a wall is that he's using his grandmother's maiden name. It was Grace who gave me the idea, actually."  
  
Sam nodded. "Thanks, George."  
  
"Anytime," he replied. He looked at Sam for a moment. "He shouldn't have handled it this way."  
  
A faint smile on her face, Sam said, "Now I just have to convince him of that." Standing up, she glanced toward their boss' office. "I need to go talk to Bailey about taking the next couple of days off."  
  
"Good luck," George said with a smile.  
  
A few minutes later, Sam was knocking on the door to Bailey's office. "Sam? What can I do for you?" Bailey asked after she walked in.  
  
"I need to take a couple of days off to fly up north," she said, not sitting down.  
  
Bailey nodded. "George found out where John is hiding?"  
  
Sam nodded in reply. "He just told me. I have to go see him, Bailey."  
  
"I know, Sammy." After a pause, he added, "Take all the time you need. Just bring our wayward boy home."  
  
Smiling, Sam responded, "Thanks, Bailey."  
  
"What about Chloe?"   
  
Sam turned to leave. "Grace said she could stay with them. Chloe's looking forward to playing with Jason."  
  
Bailey grinned for a second. "I can imagine, but have you told her about John?"  
  
"Not yet," Sam replied, shaking her head. "I'm hoping we'll do that together."  
  
***  
  
Early the next morning, Sam was on a flight from Hartsfield International Airport to Buffalo. It had only been a few days since Grace had told her the real reason John had left, although it felt more like a few years.  
  
During the flight, she remembered any number of little things that should have been hints, only she over looked them. In truth, she forced herself to admit, there was no reason she would have placed them. However, knowing that didn't make her feel any better.  
  
In her mind, she replayed the last time she had seen him. She flinched as she remembered the cold way she had acted, lashing out from hurt. Playing with the ring on her finger, she waited impatiently for the plane to land so she could see him again.  
  
After renting a car in Buffalo, she managed to find the Tucker Treatment Center using the address George had given her. Driving through the busy streets, she tried to decide what she would say, but couldn't make up her mind.  
  
When she pulled the car into a parking spot in front of the building, designed to look like an apartment complex, she sat in the car for a few minutes. After taking a deep breath she got out and walked into the front building.  
  
Walking up to the front desk, she asked the receptionist, "I'm looking for John Chambers. Is he still in apartment twenty-three?"  
  
The receptionist consulted her computer and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Are you a relative?"  
  
Sam nodded. "You could say that."  
  
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Mr. Chambers has relatives only visitation."  
  
Growing impatient, Sam held up her hand. "Do you see this ring?" When the receptionist nodded, she continued. "I think I'm allowed to see my fiance."  
  
The woman's eyes widened, and she nodded. "All right." She stood and pointed to the left. "Apartment twenty-three is just down the main walkway. It's on your left, you can't miss it."  
  
"Thank you," Sam said with a nod and walked away.  
  
The closer Sam walked to number twenty-three, the slower she walked. No matter how badly she wanted to see him, she was still nervous about what would be said.  
  
Finally, when she was standing outside a door marked twenty-three, she raised her hand and knocked. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard John's voice. "Yeah?" he asked, pulling the door open.  
  
For a moment, neither one spoke. John couldn't believe who he was seeing, and Sam was relieved to see him in one piece.  
  
"Sam . . ." he managed, unable to tear his eyes away from her. He had convinced himself that he would never see her again. Blinking his eyes, he stood to the side and held the door open. "Come in."  
  
"Thanks," Sam managed, following him into the apartment. For a minute, they just stood there. Then Sam asked, "How are you doing?"  
  
"Better," John replied honestly, but tugged on the ball cap he always wore. When Sam nodded, he asked, "How did you find out?"  
  
Sam sighed. "Grace broke down and told me." She paused, looking around the warm apartment for a moment. "The question is why didn't you?"  
  
"I couldn't." John dropped down onto the couch.  
  
Sam sat down next to him. "I would have been there for you, John. That's what commitment is about."  
  
Nodding, John replied, "I know."  
  
His breath caught when she pulled the cap off of his head. "How are you feeling, really?"  
  
"I really do feel better," he said, gazing into her eyes.  
  
She smiled faintly, moisture filling her eyes, and brushed the spiky hair. "It looks like I won't have to give you a haircut any time soon."  
  
"You should have seen it a couple of weeks ago," he said, a glint of humor in his eyes. "Looked like I was worried it would before you cut it the first time."  
  
"I've missed you," Sam said, blinking back the tears in her eyes.  
  
John nodded. "You can't imagine how much I've missed you, Sam." He paused, and looked away, only to look back into her eyes. "You and Chloe were always the last faces I saw before I went to sleep."  
  
Sam smiled sadly. "She sleeps with the bear you gave her." She laughed before she added, "Even though it almost knocks her out of bed, she won't take it off of the bed."  
  
"That's my kiddo," John smiled, leaning over to brush a lock of hair behind Sam's ear. "Stubborn just like her mom."  
  
Closing the distance between them, Sam leaned forward until their lips met in a soft kiss. Weeks of loneliness and fear melted into the contact. John felt her shake with a pent up sob, and he wrapped an arm around her. When they pulled back, John rested a hand on her cheek, wiping away the single tear that had escaped. "I love you," he whispered, resting his forehead on hers.  
  
"Then come back to Atlanta with me," Sam said, looking into his eyes.  
  
"Sam, I . . ." he was interrupted by the phone ringing. "Just a second," he said to Sam and picked up the phone. "Hello?"  
  
Sam watched as he spoke on the phone and hung up once he was finished. "What's wrong?" she asked when he sat back down.  
  
"My test results are back."   
  
Sam placed her hand on his arm. "Well?"  
  
"I have to go and speak with my doctor," he said, standing. "You can wait here, if you want," he said distractedly.  
  
Standing up, Sam replied, "I want to go with you. If that's okay."  
  
John looked over at Sam's face and smiled faintly. "I don't want you to be hurt, Sam."  
  
"Then don't shut me out any more," she said, taking his hand. "Now let's go see how you're doing."  
  
John leaned down and kissed her. "Thank you," he whispered.  
  
***  
  
"I've got good news for you," the doctor said once John and Sam were sitting across from him. Sam squeezed John's hand. "Your test came back clean."  
  
John smiled, shocked relief showing on his face. "You mean I'm in remission?"  
  
The doctor nodded. "Congratulations."  
  
"For how long?" John asked, blinking slowly.  
  
The doctor shook her head. "There's no way to be certain. However," she added, "there's no reason to not be cautiously optimistic."  
  
Sam smiled, and blinked away the moisture in her eyes. "That's great, John. You're going to be okay."  
  
"Thanks, Sam." He squeezed her hand.  
  
Referring to John's chart, the doctor said, "Of course, you'll have to still have check-ups occasionally. I would say start with every three months, and after a year extend the time in between appointments."  
  
"Would he have to stay here?" Sam asked, glancing over at John.  
  
"No." The doctor shook her head. "There's no reason you can't return to Atlanta, John. Doctor Thompson can see to your check ups."  
  
John nodded. "It's something to think about." He paused for a moment before standing and shaking the doctor's hand. "Thank you, Doctor Hallum."  
  
Still holding Sam's hand, he waited as she said, "Thank you, doctor," before turning to leave.  
  
Once they were back in his apartment, she looked at him. "Do you not want to come back to Atlanta?"  
  
John shook his head, and poured each of them a glass of water. "It's not that, Sam. I do want to come back."  
  
"Then why don't you?" she asked, taking the offered glass. "You're well, take advantage of that."  
  
Taking a drink of water, John thought for a moment. "There's no guarantee I won't get sick again, Sam."  
  
"And there's nothing saying you will," Sam countered, looking into his eyes. "You have to make the most of this second chance, John."  
  
John sat his glass down on the counter and taking Sam's hand, led her over to the couch. After they had sat down, he said, "Sam, I know how much losing Tom hurt both you and Chloe."  
  
"John . . ." she tried to interrupt, but was silenced when he placed a finger over her lips.  
  
"Please let me finish, Sam." Taking a deep breath, he continued. "The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you like that. That's why I left. I don't want to be responsible for hurting the two of you like that again."  
  
"Then let me be there. We'll talk to Chloe," she said, and cupped his cheek in her hand. "Together."  
  
John thought for a moment, and smiled. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"  
  
Sam grinned. "I'm sure I'll think of whatever it was sooner or later."  
  
John laughed, and kissed her. "Then let's go home."  
  
***  
  
It was the next day when Sam and John flew back to Atlanta. When they pulled up outside of Sam's house, John thought for a moment. "I wasn't sure if I'd ever see this place again."  
  
Sam got out of the car and unlocked the trunk. Picking up two of their bags, she said, "I was wondering the same thing the last time you were here."  
  
"I'm sorry about the way I just left, Sam," John said, getting out of the car and closing the door. Reaching into the trunk, he pulled out the remaining bag.  
  
"I know," Sam said, looking into John's tired eyes. "And I'm sorry about the things I said when you left." She closed the trunk. "But that's in the past. It's the future we need to be thinking about right now."  
  
John nodded in agreement. They were walking up to the door when John asked, "So when is Chloe getting home?"  
  
"I called Grace from the airport," she said, unlocking the door. "So she should be home in thirty minutes or so."  
  
They walked into the house, and Sam dropped the bags by the door. She turned and looked at John with a smile on her face. "I believe that you're due a welcome home kiss, Mr. Grant."  
  
"Oh really?" he asked, smiling. He placed the bag on the floor, and said, "Is this a new one no one told me about?"  
  
Sam wrapped her arms around John's neck. "Must be," she said with a small smile before their lips met.  
  
John was upstairs unpacking when Grace arrived with Chloe. "Mom, you're home!" Chloe said running into the living room.  
  
Giving Chloe a hug, Sam smiled. "Did you have fun with Grace and Jason?"  
  
Chloe nodded, grinning. "He's getting big!"  
  
Upstairs, John heard Chloe and smiled. Placing the suitcase in the closet, he walked downstairs quietly. Walking into the living room, Grace's eyes widened and she started to say something, but he held a finger in front of her lips, and she stayed quiet.  
  
Stepping up behind Chloe, he kneeled down and put his hands over her eyes. "Hey there, kiddo."  
  
Chloe's face broke into a grin and she reached up and pulled John's hands from her eyes. Turning around quickly, she gasped. "John!" she exclaimed, and threw herself into his arms. A second later she pulled back. "You kept your promise!"  
  
John smiled and nodded. "You knew I'd come back to see you, little one."  
  
"Are you back for good?" Chloe asked uncertainly.  
  
Glancing up at Sam, John smiled. "I sure hope so." Standing up, he ruffled Chloe's hair and turned to Grace. "Can I talk to you, Grace?"  
  
Grace smiled. "Sure. I'll wait for you on the back porch." Smiling at Chloe, she added, "It was fun, Chlo." Turning, she walked through the living room and out the back door.  
  
Kneeling down in front of Chloe again, John said, "I'm going to go talk to Grace for a little while, okay?"  
  
Chloe nodded. "Okay. I'll stay in here and talk to Mom."   
  
John pushed the door closed behind him as he stepped out onto the deck. "Hey, Grace," he said, catching her attention.  
  
Turning, she smiled and met him half way across the porch. For a moment she didn't say anything, but instead pulled him into a hug. "I'm glad you're home," she said when she pulled away from the embrace.  
  
John grinned. "Well, I'd say you had something to do with it."  
  
"Are you angry?" she asked, leaning against the rail of the porch.  
  
Shaking his head, John's eyes were serious. "Never."  
  
Grace smiled. "Good, because I'd hate to have to beat you up." She paused, her smile fading. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"The best I've felt in a long time, Grace," he replied seriously. "I just hope it lasts."  
  
***  
  
After dinner, Sam and John took Chloe into the living room. "Sit down, sweetie," Sam said. "We need to talk to you about something."  
  
Chloe dropped into an oversized chair. "What's going on?"  
  
John sat down on the couch and held out his hand. "Come over here, will ya, kiddo?" Grinning, Chloe jumped up and in a second was sitting in John's lap. "I wanted to talk to you about why I went away."  
  
Sam had just sat down next to them when Chloe asked, "Does it have something to do with why you're wearing a baseball cap?"  
  
John nodded, but it was Sam who replied. "John had to go away because he found out that he was sick."  
  
Chloe nodded, her eyes serious. "Are you better now?"  
  
"Yeah, little one, I'm better now," John said with a smile.  
  
Smiling, Chloe replied, "I'm glad, I missed you."  
  
"That's good." John smiled and ruffled her hair. "I'd hate to think you might get tired of me anytime soon."  
  
"I wouldn't get tired of you."   
  
"Well, I guess that's settled then," he said, laughing as he tickled her.  
  
Sam watched, smiling, while Chloe and John laughed. "Do you have any more questions, Chloe?" she asked when Chloe was catching her breath.  
  
Chloe thought for a minute, grinning she asked, "Does this mean the two of you are going to live happily ever after?"  
  
"I don't know, Chlo," Sam said with a smile. Winking at John, she added, "I'm not sure I want to see John try to ride a white horse."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, buddy," George said when he saw John walking toward the briefing table. "Welcome back."  
  
John grinned. "Thanks, George."  
  
"How was your first few days back home?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.  
  
Dropping into a chair next to George, John rubbed a hand over his face and laughed. "Exhausting. Chloe won't let me out of her sight."  
  
"Do you blame her?" George asked with a grin.  
  
John shook his head. "I guess not." After a pause, he asked, "How's everything been around here?"  
  
George smirked. "You always were the one to change the subject." He rolled his eyes when he said, "Busy, but that's not that abnormal." John nodded and George asked, "When are you coming back to work?"  
  
"A couple of weeks, I hope," John said, tugging on the ball cap absent mindedly. "I'll probably be on desk duty for a while after that, though."  
  
George nodded. "You're better and you're back, John, that's what counts."  
  
John spotted Sam walking toward the briefing room and smiled. "You know, George? You're right."  
  
Grinning, George jokingly replied, "Nobody says that nearly often enough."  
  
"Hey, there," John said when Sam walked up and sat next to him.  
  
Sam smiled. "Hey there, yourself. What are you doing here so soon?"  
  
"Now, Sam," he laughed, "How could I possibly stay away from George?"  
  
Shrugging, George dead-panned, "Must be my magnetic personality."  
  
"And here I thought you wanted to see me," Sam said with a wink.  
  
"Really?" John asked. He titled his head to the side and pretended to think about it. "No, I don't remember planning to run into you."  
  
Play-punching his arm, Sam laughed. "You're awful, John Grant."  
  
"Yep," he said with a smirk. "But I'm yours."  
  
"So I've been told," she grinned.  
  
George watched the couple joke around and smiled. "It's good to see the two of you together again. And laughing, no less."  
  
John's grin faded for a second before he put it back in place. "Now, George. You sound like you missed me."  
  
"Only your ego, buddy," George kidded with a laugh. "'Cause it sure wasn't your looks."  
  
"Ouch," John said with a grin.  
  
Sam laughed. "That's just as well. I' m the only one who's allowed to talk about your looks."  
  
"That I like the sound of," John said with a wink. Glancing at his watch, he added, "I better go, I promised to pick Chloe up at school."  
  
Sam nodded, and smiled. "I'll see you tonight."  
  
John nodded and walked out of the briefing room. After watching him go, George looked over at Sam. "You two seem to have fallen back into a groove."  
  
Sam nodded. "He seems determined to make up for being away."  
  
"For not letting you be there, you mean," George said, as if reading her mind.  
  
Tapping her pen on the table, she replied. "Something like that."  
  
***  
  
Two weeks after returning to Atlanta, John was cleared to go back to work. The first morning he walked into the briefing room to find a banner hanging over the table. Laughing he pointed at it. "Whose idea was that?"  
  
Smiling, Grace replied. "Mine actually. So shut up and pretend you like it."  
  
John grinned. "I wouldn't imagine doing anything else." A second later he took his seat next to Sam. "Thanks, Grace."  
  
"I figured I would embarrass you while I had the chance," she grinned. "Any other time you'd try to get back at me."  
  
Glancing over at Sam he winked. "Well, you never know, Grace. Just when you least expect it . . ."  
  
"We're all glad that you're back, John," Bailey said, smiling as he interrupted Grace and John.  
  
John nodded, looking over at the older agent. "Thanks, Bailey."  
  
"Okay," Bailey said, bringing the meeting to order. "Where do we stand on the Anderson case?"  
  
"I should have the latest tox results this afternoon," Grace said. "I'm betting it shows the same mixture of drugs that the last two did."  
  
Bailey nodded. He looked at George. "Tell me that you've worked some magic, Georgie."  
  
"As a matter of fact," George said, typing in a command on his keyboard. A few clicks later, a photo appeared on the view screen. "This is Max Schilling. He lives within two blocks of where the bodies were found," George explained. "And he owns a blue Ford Taurus, although it's registered under another name."  
  
Sam thought for a moment. "Are you sure that it does belong to him?"  
  
"Positive," George replied. He grinned when he added, "Just don't ask how I found out."  
  
"Usually a good piece of advice to remember," John said with a laugh.  
  
Bailey grinned. "Now there's that irreverent humor we've been missing."  
  
"I missed you too, Bailey," John said with a grin. "This place must have been so . . . orderly."  
  
"Dull is more like it," George chimed in, earning him a barely managed stern look from Bailey. "Oh like you didn't think so, too," George laughed.  
  
***  
  
That night, Sam and John had just finished putting up the dinner dishes when she asked, "So how did you like your first day back?"  
  
"Like I'd never been gone," he replied, grinning. Placing his arm around her waist, they walked into the living room. "It was nice to be back."  
  
"Really?" Sam asked, a smile on her face.  
  
Grinning, John relented. "Well, most of the day. Although," he conceded, "desk duty has got to go. I'm going to be bored out of my mind."  
  
"We can't have that, can we?" Sam replied. Sitting down on the couch, she motioned for John to join her. "I wanted to ask you something."  
  
Sitting next to her, John grinned. "You have that look on your face that Chloe gets whenever she is up to something, Sam."  
  
"Where do you think she learned it from?" Sam asked with a laugh. A moment later, her face was serious when she pulled the engagement ring from her finger. "I want to talk to you about this," she said. Taking his hand, she uncurled his fingers and placed the ring in his palm.  
  
His face fell slightly. "I know what you're going to say, Sam," he began before she interrupted him.  
  
"I don't want you to get any ideas into that remarkably thick skull of yours, John," she said, cutting him off. A second later, when he didn't respond, she put her hand over his, with the ring lost in the middle. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Will you marry me?"  
  
John blinked, his gaze alternating between Sam's face and their joined hands. "Sam . . ." he began, and licked his lips. "I'm not sure we should."  
  
"Give me one reason anything should change," she said, holding her head high.  
  
John reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. "I don't want to make you a widow as soon as I make you a wife."   
  
"You don't know that you will," she replied. "Stop worrying so much about me, and enjoy what you have. What *we* have. For all either one of us knows, you'll live to be a hundred."  
  
John laughed. "And I thought Chloe was stubborn."  
  
Searching his gaze, Sam asked, "So? Will you still marry me?"  
  
Taking the ring from their hands, he slipped the band onto her finger. "I will."  
  
Smiling, Sam wrapped her arms around John's neck. "I knew you would see it my way."  
  
"Don't I always?" he joked, leaning forward to kiss her.  
  
Sam laughed. "Let's not get into that particular argument right now."  
  
"I'll be good," John replied with a wink.  
  
"You know," Sam said, "Chloe is spending the night at Amy's house."  
  
Kissing her again, John laughed. "And you say I'm awful."  
  
***   
  
It was a week later, and Sam and Grace were driving back from a crime scene in an Atlanta suburb. "Are you still free this weekend?"  
  
Grace glanced over at Sam, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "I should be," she replied. "Morgan is taking Jason to see his grandparents."  
  
"Good," Sam said, nodding. "I was hoping we could go for a dress fitting."  
  
Smiling, Grace responded, "Sounds like fun. Just please tell me I won't have to wear seafoam, or any other 1950's inspired color."  
  
"Would I do that to you?" Sam asked, trying to hide her grin. "No, I was thinking more about sapphire blue."  
  
Grace couldn't help but laugh. "Like your ring?"  
  
Sam glanced at her hand. "Would you believe that I hadn't even thought about that?"  
  
"Really?" Grace asked, not taking her eyes from the road. "You're kidding me, right?"  
  
Laughing softly, Sam said, "I kid you not." She paused. "No, I just like the color."  
  
"Even in the spring?" she asked. "Although it would match John's eyes," she said, smiling.  
  
"Wow, Grace, I wish I had all of your reasoning skills," Sam said with a half-grin.  
  
Grace nodded. "Well, I do what I can." Pulling into a parking spot at the VCTF, Grace killed the engine before asking, "Have John and George gone to look at tuxes yet?"  
  
Sam rolled her eyes. "What do you think? That will be like pulling teeth."  
  
"I don't know, he might surprise you."  
  
"Wouldn't be the first time," Sam said, getting out of the car and closing the door. "However, I still doubt it about this."  
  
After they walked inside, Sam went to her office. She had just sat down when she noticed John sitting at his desk. Standing, she walked down the small stair case and over to his desk. "How's the desk duty going?" she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder.  
  
John smiled when he saw her. "It's going," he said dryly. "Beyond that there are no polite words."  
  
"That never stopped you before," Sam said with a laugh.  
  
"How was it, out in the real world?" John asked, a hint of eagerness in his voice.  
  
She pulled a chair over next to his desk. "Not as wonderful as you're making it out to be," she said with a sly grin.  
  
Leaning forward conspiratorially, John glanced around. "I'll switch with you. You can stay here at my desk and I'll wear your jacket and go to the crime scenes."  
  
"Wear the heels, too and we might talk." Sam grinned. "Besides, it can't be that bad in here."  
  
John shot Sam an exacerbated look, "You're enjoying this far too much."  
  
"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy what I'm fixing to ask you about," she said with a grin.  
  
John groaned and closed his eyes. "You're going to ask me about the tux again, aren't you?"  
  
Patting his knee, she laughed. "Buck up, John. It's not the end of the world."  
  
"So you say," he complained. "The guy lays one hand on my in seam and I swear I'll shoot him."  
  
Standing up, Sam continued to laugh. "Good thing you're still on desk duty then. At least you don't have your handcuffs either."  
  
"I'll steal George's gun if I have to," John threatened.  
  
"Since when does George carry a gun to a tux fitting?" Sam asked, enjoying the conversation. "A computer maybe. Maybe you could hit the guy with that."  
  
John rolled his eyes, but barely managed to hide his grin. "Not funny, Sam."  
  
***  
  
There was just over a week left before the wedding when Sam, Grace and Chloe went for their final dress fittings. From where she stood in the middle of the room, Sam looked around at the various mirrors.  
  
The dress was satin, just a shade off-white. The neckline lay in soft folds almost off the shoulders, and dipped low in the back. It laced up the back, so that it was fitted at the waist, and fell loose to the floor where it pooled at her feet.  
  
"What do you think?" she asked gesturing at the dress when Chloe walked into the room.  
  
Smiling, Chloe replied, "You look beautiful, Mom."  
  
"Wow, Sam." Grace smiled, walking up behind Chloe. "The dress is perfect."  
  
"Thanks." Sam glanced in the mirror. "Why aren't you in your dresses, too?" she asked, turning her attention back to Chloe and Grace.  
  
"We were waiting on you," Chloe said with a grin.  
  
Laughing, Sam replied, "Well, this part of the show is over. Now it's time to see the two of you perform."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Grace said with a grin. "We'll be back in just a minute. Off to the dressing rooms, Chloe."  
  
Chloe giggled. "Yea, now I can try mine, too!" With that, she turned and ran off toward the left into a dressing room.  
  
"You, too," Sam said when Grace didn't move.  
  
She nodded. "I'm going. I was just trying to picture John's face when you walk down the aisle in that dress."  
  
"Think he'll like it?" Sam asked, smiling.  
  
Grace smiled. "Oh, yeah. I'd say so." Turning, she walked into the dressing room on the right.  
  
***  
  
On the first Saturday in April, several members of the VCTF and their families gathered at the same church where Sam and Chloe had taken John to his first Christmas mass in December. In the brides room, Grace and Chloe were helping Sam with the finishing touches to her outfit.  
  
"Something borrowed." Grace handed Sam a pair of mother-of-pearl earrings. "I hope you like them."  
  
Sam smiled, putting the earrings on and glancing in the mirror. "They're beautiful, Grace."  
  
Chloe walked up, already wearing her blue satin dress. "I've got the something old," she said, handing Sam a pearl choker necklace. "You told me it was Grandma's," she explained.  
  
Blinking, Sam grinned and hugged Chloe. "Thanks for thinking of this, sweetie."  
  
"Chloe and I talked it over," Grace said a moment later. "And we think your engagement ring qualifies as something new."  
  
Sam laughed. "Couldn't come up with anything, huh?"  
  
"No," Grace answered with a laugh. "Nothing that seemed right."  
  
Sam nodded, still smiling. "I guess that leaves something blue."  
  
"That's us!" Chloe announced with a grin. "After all, you picked the color."  
  
"I suppose I did, didn't I?" Sam asked with a laugh. Taking a deep breath, she added, "Thanks you two."  
  
Chloe grinned and gave Sam a hug. "You're welcome, Mom."  
  
A knock on the door interrupted them, and Bailey stuck his head into the room. "Ready?"  
  
Sam nodded, and glanced at Grace, who nodded in return. "Let's go," Sam said, standing.  
  
"Here," Grace said, "let me help you with that." Reaching up, she pulled Sam's veil in front of her face. "Perfect."  
  
"Don't forget your flowers," Chloe said, handing her the bouquet.  
  
"Thanks, baby," Sam said, taking the flowers. "It's time for a wedding I'd say."  
  
Grace laughed as she walked out of the room ahead of Sam. "I hope so, otherwise I'm way overdressed."  
  
***  
  
"You have the rings, right?" John asked for the second time, keeping his voice low, as he and George were standing at front of the church.  
  
George laughed. "Yes, John. I didn't lose them in the last two minutes."  
  
"Sorry," John said with a grin.  
  
Shaking his head, George grinned and whispered, "No problem, buddy. You're just wound up a little." A second later when the music began to play, George whispered, "Showtime."  
  
John smiled when he saw Chloe appear in the open doorway. For a second she just stood there, waiting for her cue to walk toward the front. Clutching her small bouquet of flowers in front of her, she walked slowly down the aisle. Catching John's eye, she smiled broadly and continued to almost bounce down the aisle.  
  
Next, Grace appeared in the doorway. For a moment, she stood there in her floor-length dark blue satin dress. Holding a bouquet of white roses similar to Chloe's, she then began to walk down the aisle, stepping to the beat of the music.  
  
Once she was at the front of the church, the tone of the music changed and those gathered stood up on either side of the aisle. John felt his heart jump when Sam and Bailey walked up to the doorway. Unable to tear his eyes away from her, his face was beaming as he watched her walk down the aisle toward him.  
  
When she reached the front of the church, and Bailey stepped back, John lifted the veil from her face. Sam looked up at John, and smiled when she saw him swallow nervously. Taking his hand in hers, she gave it a gentle squeeze as the ceremony began.  
  
***  
  
"Here they come," George called when Sam and John appeared from a side doorway in the church.  
  
Following the short reception, the small group had moved outside to wait for the couple to leave. At the same time, Sam and John had gone back into the changing rooms to change, and were trying to sneak into the car when George spotted them.  
  
Grace watched for a second. "Do they really think that they're going to get away that easily?"  
  
"I should hope not," George said with a grin. "Let's get 'em."  
  
"Get who?" Chloe asked, walking up to them.  
  
Grace handed her a small sack of birdseed. "Your Mom and John, honey." Smiling she untied her bundle, saying to those still there, "Fire away guys."  
  
"Man, right in the ear," they heard John yell as he ducked into the driver's seat.  
  
Chloe giggled and watched as Sam shook her head to get the birdseed out of her hair. Grace glanced down at Chloe. "Happy, Chloe?" Looking up at Grace, Chloe nodded. "Good, because now it's time to go clean up." Grace laughed when Chloe's face fell.  
  
"Ah, man," Chloe said, with half a grin. "And Mom and John just get to drive off."  
  
"That's the breaks, kid," George said with a grin, dropping a hand onto her shoulder. "But I'll tell you what."  
  
"What?" she asked, grinning.  
  
George laughed. "First one to finish helping cleaning gets to hit the leftover cake."  
  
Chloe's eyes lit up as she said, "Hope you don't want any cake, George." She was laughing as she ran back inside the building.  
  
"Sam and John are not going to thank you for that," Grace said with a glint in her eye. "She's going to be wired."  
  
"Actually," George said with a wink, "since she's spending the night with you, I think you're the only one who doesn't care for my negotiation techniques."  
  
Shaking her head, Grace did her best not to laugh. "Get in there and help her clean up, George," she said, slapping him lightly on the back.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he said, pulling off a smart salute. "But where do you think you're going?"  
  
"Right behind you," she said with a laugh.  
  
***  
  
Relaxing back into her seat, Sam smiled. "I can't believe that we're actually doing this," she said, glancing over at John. They had just boarded their flight at Hartsfield which was to take them to Aspen, Colorado.  
  
"Making a getaway?" he asked, grinning. "Hey, I'd say we're due a vacation." He paused before adding, "This one just happens to be our honeymoon."  
  
Sam smiled. "Yes, and how many people go to Colorado for their honeymoon?"  
  
Waggling his eyebrows, John tried not to laugh when he said, "Yes, but how many people have our track record in cabins?"  
  
"Good point," Sam said, stealing a quick kiss.  
  
"I thought so," John replied after the kiss ended. "Besides, we live in Georgia. We can get sun anytime, but I'm from up north . . ."  
  
Sam laughed. "And the poor guy wants to see snow."  
  
John sniffed, wiping away a non-existent tear. "I do miss snowball fights."  
  
"Don't even think about it," Sam said with mock seriousness.  
  
Managing his best innocent expression, John asked, "Me?"  
  
Laughing, Sam replied, "Oh don't even try it." She paused, and grinned when she added, "Not even Chloe buys that anymore."  
  
"No," John corrected, "Chloe never did buy it."  
  
Sam rested her head on John's shoulder. "That's my girl."  
  
John laughed. "Boy is she."  
  
"And what's that supposed to mean, Mr. Grant?" she asked, pulling her head back so she could look in his eyes.  
  
John shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. You know how you stubborn blonds are."  
  
"You're terrible," Sam said with a laugh.  
  
"Well, that's better than awful, I suppose," John said, a thoughtful look on his face. A second later it was replaced with a grin. "What do you think it's supposed to mean, Mrs. Grant?"  
  
Sam laughed. "With you, it's just as well I don't know, probably." She paused. "Mrs. Grant . . . That's the first time I've heard that one."  
  
"I like it," John said with a grin, "almost as much as I liked Dr. Waters."  
  
"Then I guess it's good that I'm both," she said with a sly grin. "Let's see. I'm giving up my name, what are you giving up?'  
  
John grinned. "Should I answer something hokey like, my heart?"  
  
"Romeo, you are not," Sam replied, laughing. "Although . . ." she continued, with a suggestive grin.  
  
John shook his head, laughing. "Uh-uh, I am *not* wearing tights."  
  
Laughing, Sam countered, "Well, you probably couldn't pull them off anyway." At John's openmouthed look, she added, "In either sense."  
  
"Now who's awful?" he asked, smiling.  
  
Sam nodded. "But only because I learned from the best."  
  
***  
  
"We really should leave the cabin," Sam said two days later. "Don't you think?"  
  
John laughed, and put his arm around her shoulders. "Willing to risk a snowball fight?"  
  
"Maybe," she replied with a grin. "Then again, it is nice by the fire."  
  
John laughed even harder. "Chicken. Get your gloves and coat, you're going down."  
  
"I'll have you know," she laughed, "that I've won a snowball fight or two in my lifetime."  
  
John walked over to where their coats were hanging on the wall. "We'll see." He handed Sam her jacket. "You're gonna need it."  
  
Taking her jacket, she grinned. "We'll see."  
  
Reaching over, John grabbed Sam by the waist and started tickling her. "We'll see," he repeated with a laugh. "I don't think so."  
  
***  
  
"Mom!" Chloe cried out after pulling open the door. Behind her, Grace laughed.  
  
"Hey there, Chlo," Sam said, kneeling down and giving her a hug. "Miss us?"  
  
Chloe nodded, looking up at John she smiled. "Hey, John."  
  
"Hey there, kiddo," he said, ruffling her hair.  
  
"Are you going to come in, or just stand there?" Grace asked with a grin, holding the door open.  
  
Sam laughed. "Hi, Grace."  
  
Nodding, Grace closed the door after they had walked in. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you two had a nice time."  
  
Putting his arm around Sam's shoulders, John winked. "You could say that."  
  
"And then you had to come back to the real world," Grace said with a grin.  
  
Sam laughed. "But we did so miss your sense of humor."  
  
"Or lack there of," John added with a grin.  
  
"Did you hear that, Chlo?" Grace asked with a smile. "I do them a favor, and this is how they treat me."  
  
Chloe giggled. "I'm used to it."  
  
"Oh, you're used to it, huh?" John asked with a grin as he tickled Chloe, who started giggling.  
  
While they were distracted, Grace pulled Sam off to the side. "How did everything go?" she asked once they were out of earshot.  
  
Sam smiled. "Everything was great."  
  
"John still feeling okay?" she asked, glancing over at where he was still tickling Chloe.  
  
Nodding, Sam replied with a wink. "Oh I'd say so."  
  
Noticing that they had attracted John and Chloe's attention, Grace laughed. "You will tell me all about it later."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Sam laughed, walking over to where John was standing.  
  
"Where did Chloe disappear to?" Sam asked.  
  
John tilted his head toward the stairs. "She wanted to get her stuff."  
  
"Ready to go?" Chloe asked, bounding down the stairs.  
  
Sam nodded, but said, "Are you going to thank Grace for letting you stay here?"  
  
Grinning, Chloe ran over and gave Grace a hug. "Thanks, Aunt Grace."  
  
Grace smiled. "No problem, sweetie."  
  
"Ready to go home?" John asked. Chloe nodded and took his hand. "Then let's do it."  
  
***  
  
"Welcome back you two," Bailey said when Sam and John walked into the briefing room the following Monday morning.  
  
Smiling, Sam said, "Thanks, Bailey."  
  
"Welcome back," George said, giving Sam a hug.  
  
"Thanks." Sam smiled, sitting down.  
  
"What?" John asked with a grin. "No welcome back hug for me?"  
  
"Now, John," George replied with a laugh. "The first thing to learn is to not be jealous of your wife." Patting him on the back as he walked past, George added, "Glad to have you back, buddy."  
  
Grinning, John sat down in his usual seat next to Sam. "Thanks, George. I think, anyway."  
  
"I hate to break this up," Bailey interjected, "but we do have work to do."  
  
John laughed and smirked. "Gee, dad. Do we have to?"  
  
"Sorry, John," Bailey said, grinning. Turning to George, he added, "Put up the crime scene photos so Sam and John can catch up, would you, Georgie?"  
  
The first photo had appeared on the screen when Sam glanced around. "Isn't Grace coming to the meeting?"  
  
"Not today," Bailey replied. "She's in the morgue working on something for us." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Now, the first victim was Samuel Marcus. Black male, mid-30's. He was found two weeks after being reported missing."  
  
***  
  
After they had finished discussing the case, John followed Bailey into his office. Bailey had barely sat down, when he started speaking. "When do I get to go back out into the field?"  
  
"Soon, John," he replied, looking up at the young agent.  
  
John ran a hand through his hair, which was finally back to a semi-normal length. "How soon? I'm going crazy just sitting around here, Bailey."  
  
Nodding, Bailey replied, "I know. Maybe the next case."  
  
"Yeah," John replied, turning to leave the office, "I've heard that already."  
  
"John," Bailey called out just before John walked through the door. "Just give it time. You'll get back out there."  
  
John nodded but didn't say anything before closing the door behind him.  
  
***  
  
May was half over before John finally went out on a case. The team had been called to Charlotte, North Carolina to help on a particularly gruesome case. Someone was kidnaping teenagers in Charlotte and returning them almost dead. All but one had later died in the hospital.  
  
"Did you really miss this?" Grace asked. They were at the latest crime scene, and the victim was being rushed to the hospital.  
  
John nodded. "Strange, isn't it?" He looked around the busy alley. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"  
  
"I'm waiting on my ride, actually," she replied. "Sam's supposed to drop me off at the morgue on her way to the hospital."  
  
"Bailey and I are going to finish up here, and then go back to the police station. I think we're meeting the two of you there later."  
  
"Hey, you two," Sam said, walking up to Grace and John.  
  
John grinned, taking her hand. "Hey, yourself."  
  
Sam smiled, but turned to Grace. "Are you ready to go? You're cleared to look at the last two victims."  
  
"I'm ready when you are," Grace replied with a nod.  
  
Sam nodded. "We better go, I need to speak with the doctors that treated the victims." Grace nodded and began walking back to the car.  
  
"I'll see you later, then," John said a moment later.  
  
"Wouldn't be normal otherwise," she responded. "See you at the police station," she finished before following Grace to the rental car.  
  
A few minutes later, Bailey walked over to John. "Anything new?"  
  
John shook his head. "So far, nothing different than the reports from the previous crime scenes."  
  
"I was hoping for a break sooner rather than later," Bailey said with a sigh.  
  
"We'll get the guy, Bailey."  
  
***  
  
"He fits the profile," Sam said during a brainstorming session over a week later.  
  
George nodded. "Stephens is the only one I can find who fits the evidence."  
  
"John," Bailey said, glancing at the younger agent. "Let's go talk to Roy Stephens, see what happens with that before we ask for a warrant." John stood while Bailey asked, "George, can you get me a current address?"  
  
"Sure thing," the computer whiz said. A moment later, the printer connected to George's laptop jumped to life. "Here you go," George said, handing John the printout.  
  
John took the offered paper and nodded, "Thanks, George." He glanced at Bailey. "Let's go."  
  
Bailey nodded in agreement and quickly left the room. Just before John could follow him, Sam touched his arm. "Be careful."  
  
John smiled. "I always am." Turning, he walked out of the room.  
  
***  
  
Bailey pulled the car to a stop outside of a modest apartment building. "This is the address George gave us," John said, checking the paper.  
  
Bailey nodded. "Let's go see if he's home."  
  
After getting out of the car, John laughed. "This reminds me of the last time we went to interview a suspect together."  
  
Bailey thought for a moment before replying. "That's been a while."  
  
"Tell me about it." He touched the area under his eye, remembering the incident. "That guy socked me in the eye."  
  
Bailey laughed. "I remember that, but it was more like he hit you in the ego."  
  
"Lucky shot," John muttered under his breath, and rolled his eyes.  
  
When they reached the suspect's apartment, Bailey knocked on the door. "Mr. Stephens?" Bailey asked when no one answered.  
  
A moment later the door was pulled open an inch and Bailey and John could see an eye and nose through the crack. "What do you want?"  
  
Bailey pulled his badge from his jacket pocket. "Mr. Stephens, we're with the FBI, we'd like to speak with you."  
  
They saw the man's eye widen just before the door was slammed shut. "Just like old times," John muttered, running down the hall and back down the stairs.  
  
As Bailey chased the man through his apartment and out the window, John raced outside to cut off his escape. "Hold it right there, Mr. Stephens," he said when he was facing the suspect, his gun drawn.  
  
Roy Stephens, a small, spindly man, raised his hands. "What do you want with me?"  
  
"We just wanted to talk," Bailey said from behind him. "You're the one who ran."  
  
"What was I supposed to do?" he asked, his whole body shaking.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," John smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "Talk to us maybe?"  
  
"Like you would have believed me," the man said, his hands dropping.  
  
John laughed. "Well, we're less likely to now, aren't we?"  
  
Bailey walked up to stand behind the suspect. "I've got him, John."  
  
Lowering his gun, John pulled the long neglected pair of handcuffs from his waist and placed them on the suspect. Reading him his rights, John led him back to the car. Following a step behind, Bailey grinned. "Just like old times," he said under his breath.  
  
Placing Stephens in the car, John grinned. "Boy I missed being in the field." He couldn't help liking the adrenaline rush he felt during the chase.  
  
Sitting in the driver's seat, Bailey laughed. "Really? I couldn't tell."  
  
***  
  
"Did he confess?" Sam asked, walking over to stand next to Bailey in the interrogation observation room.  
  
Nodding, the older agent replied. "Just a few minutes ago. Never even asked for a lawyer."  
  
Sam watched the man sitting on the other side of the mirror. "I wish they were all like that."  
  
"Well," Bailey replied, "we'll still have to get a conviction."  
  
Sam nodded, and then looked around. "Where's John?'  
  
"He just left the interrogation room." Glancing at his watch, Bailey commented, "In fact, we're supposed to be meeting in the briefing room."  
  
Bailey held the door open for Sam, who had a slight grin on her face. "He didn't get hit in the eye again, did he?"  
  
John walked up behind them, unnoticed. "As a matter of fact," he said with a grin, "he didn't. But thanks for the concern."  
  
"Yeah, well," Bailey commented, "that mug can only take so many more hits, John."  
  
Laughing as they walked into the briefing room, John turned to Sam. "Are you gonna let him talk to me like that?"  
  
"I don't know, John," she said with a smile. "He might have a point."  
  
Grace walked into the room in time to hear Sam's statement. "I don't know, Sam. Bailey so often doesn't have a point," she said with a wink.  
  
John laughed, and Bailey tried to look hurt. "Gracie, how could you turn on me?"  
  
"Sorry, Bai," Grace laughed. "I have to side with John occasionally."  
  
Bailey shook his head. "How did you know you were siding with John?"  
  
Grace shrugged, and winked at John. "Intuition."  
  
***  
  
John dropped their bags in the living room. "As much as I missed the thrill of the case, it will be nice to sleep in a normal bed again."  
  
Sam laughed, and picked up one of the bags to take upstairs. "Tell me about it. It feels like we've been gone forever."  
  
"When is Angel supposed to bring Chloe home?" John asked, following Sam with the other bags.  
  
Placing her bag next to the closet, Sam replied, "Tomorrow. I'm just glad that she was in town the past couple of weeks. It was lucky timing."  
  
"I'm sure Chloe had a good time," John said, also dropping his bags before sitting on the edge of the bed. A grin on his face, he added, "We could make the most of the free night."  
  
Laughing, Sam sat next to him. "Oh really? And what would that entail?"  
  
Putting his arm around her shoulders, he replied, "I don't know. Maybe take out and alcohol?" When Sam play slapped him in the chest he laughed. "Okay, so I was kidding. Geez."  
  
"Then again," Sam said with a grin, "we've been gone for a while. I doubt there's much food left that's good."  
  
Standing up, John pulled Sam up to stand in front of him. "Then canned food it is then," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.  
  
"How romantic," Sam dead-panned, tilting her head up to kiss him.  
  
Laughing, John kissed her again. "Something tells me you're not being sincere there, Sam."  
  
"Me?" she asked with a grin. "I'm always sincere."  
  
"Uh-huh," John replied, laughing. "I don't think so."  
  
Pulling from the embrace, she took his hand. "Come on, let's go find something to eat before we don't even make it downstairs."  
  
John shook his head, and half-laughed. "She'd rather eat," he said, looking skyward.  
  
Halfway down the stairs, Sam started laughing. "You never know," she said with a mysterious grin. "You might need the energy, Grant."  
  
A grin on his face, John replied, "Now that I like the sound of."  
  
***  
  
"I have your test results," Doctor Thompson said, sitting down behind his desk. The week before, John had gone in for his first follow up exam.  
  
John nodded, and Sam took his hand. "Am I still okay?"  
  
A smile broke on the serious doctor's face. "Yes, Agent Grant. As of this test, you're still in remission."  
  
Sam smiled, and squeezed his hand. "That's great."  
  
John let go of a relieved breath. Glancing at Sam, he replied, "Yeah." Turning his attention to the doctor, he added, "Thanks, Doctor Thompson."  
  
"You're welcome," the man replied. "Now get out there and enjoy it."  
  
John nodded, a smile forming on his face. Both Sam and John stood, and walked out of the office. The had just left the medical building when Sam said, "Thanks for letting me be there this time."  
  
"I'm glad you were." They were almost to the car when he added, "It wasn't as hard waiting since I had you with me."  
  
"I'll always be with you," she said. They stopped walking when they reached the car, and she squinted in the sunlight as she looked up into his eyes. "You don't even have to ask."  
  
John felt another wave of relief wash over him as she spoke. "You're the first one to say that since my mom," he replied, suddenly somber.  
  
Sam smiled, feeling for the little boy she had glimpsed through his comment. "All part of the package." She paused. "And that reminds me . . ."  
  
"What?" John asked, brushing a windblown lock of hair from her eyes.  
  
"I know your birthday is coming up. You're not going to sneak past it this year."  
  
Laughing, John unlocked the passenger car door. "And here I was hoping you wouldn't notice."  
  
"That you never seem to have a birthday?" she asked once John was sitting in the driver's seat. "Sorry, no such luck."  
  
Grinning as he started the car, John replied, "Well, I tried." In truth, he was finding himself glad to have another birthday. There was a time in Buffalo when he didn't think he'd live to see it.  
  
***  
  
"Time to get up," Sam laughed, pulling the covers from over John's face. "You can't hide in here all day."  
  
Groaning, John squinted at Sam. "I thought I could do whatever I wanted to on my birthday."  
  
"Sorry, buddy," Sam laughed. "Up and at 'em."  
  
Grinning, John sat up and looked at Sam. "Drill sargent."  
  
Smiling, she leaned forward and kissed him. "Ever have a sargent do that?" she asked with a wink.  
  
"Well there was that one time . . ." he said, laughing at the look on Sam's face. "Sorry, must have been mistaken."  
  
"That's what I thought," she said with a laugh, climbing out of bed. "Chloe's making breakfast, so get dressed and downstairs."  
  
Getting out of bed, John laughed. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
After getting dressed, John walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Morning!" Chloe said, grinning.  
  
"Morning, kiddo," John said, ruffling her hair. "What's to eat?"  
  
Giggling, Chloe replied, "Scrambled eggs and toast."  
  
"She seems to think it's your favorite," Sam said with a laugh, walking into the room.  
  
Chloe shook her head. "Not his favorite." She laughed, glancing at John. "Just the only thing he can cook."  
  
"Only thing I can cook," John repeated with a grin. "I'll show you the only thing I can cook," he threatened with a laugh. Picking Chloe up, he dropped her into a chair at the kitchen table. A moment later, he asked, "Besides, since when do you get up so early on a Saturday?"  
  
"John!" Chloe replied with a grin, putting her hands on her hips.  
  
Laughing, he replied, "That would be me." Placing a plate down on the table in front of Chloe, he added, "Eat up kid. I want to make sure you didn't pull any funny stuff."  
  
Sam laughed. She was standing beside the counter, the coffee having just finished. Pouring two cups, she observed, "That's odd, usually you're the one that pulls funny stuff with the food."  
  
After Sam handed him one of the coffee cups, John smiled innocently. "I only tried to give you one little piece of toast that fell on the floor."  
  
"That you admit to, anyway," she remarked, winking at Chloe who started giggling.  
  
Sitting down at the table, John shook his head. Grinning, he muttered, "And here I thought you would be nice to me on my birthday."  
  
"But, John," Chloe said sweetly, taking a bite of her toast. "The day is just beginning."  
  
Sam laughed when John shook his head. "That's what worries me."  
  
***  
  
"Did you like the movie, kiddo?" John asked while they were walking to his car. When she nodded, he smiled. "Thanks for the present."  
  
Grinning, Chloe replied, "I wanted us to do something, ya know?"  
  
John unlocked the passenger door, holding it open while she climbed inside the car. "Yeah, who wants the grown-up around?"  
  
"*You're* the grown-up, John," Chloe said, giggling.  
  
Closing the door, John remarked, "So they tell me." Unlocking the drivers door, John got in and started the car. "Anywhere else you want to go?"  
  
"It's your birthday," she replied. "What do you want to do?"  
  
"How about," John said, steering through the traffic. "We go home, get your mom, and go roller blading."  
  
"That's not what you're supposed to do on your birthday," Chloe replied, laughing.  
  
"Okay, smartie," John said with a grin. "Then tell me. What are you supposed to do on your birthday?"  
  
Chloe smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."  
  
"Kiddo, I've definitely gotta teach you how to lie better," he mumbled, fighting a grin.  
  
Glancing over at him, Chloe commented, "You better not let Mom hear you say that."  
  
"You know, kiddo?" he asked, glancing over at Chloe and laughing. "You're probably right about that."  
  
It wasn't long before they were at the house. "Out kid, the train stops here," he said while unbuckling his seatbelt.  
  
Less than two seconds later, Chloe was out of the car and running up to the house. "Come on, slowpoke," she said over her shoulder with a grin.  
  
Following Chloe inside the house, he was surprised when he noticed that all of the shades were drawn. Alert, he squinted to see through the dim interior. "Chlo?" he called out.  
  
Something in the back of his mind told him that he was being set up, but he had learned to be suspicious of the worst first, and the more obvious second. After letting his eyes adjust to the dim light, he was nearly blinded when the lights were turned on.  
  
"Surprise," a group of voices called out, and John fought the urge to laugh.  
  
Distinctive among the laughter was Chloe's giggle. "Gotcha," she said proudly.  
  
"Nah," he said, ruffling her hair. "I knew all along."  
  
Walking over from behind the couch, George laughed. "Liar."  
  
"Don't believe me?" John asked, managing to look at George, complete with party hat, with a straight face. "Because," he added, tugging on the elastic strap on the hat. "It sounds kinda silly coming from a man wearing that."  
  
Laughing, Grace commented, "Be nice, Grant. I helped Chloe pick those out."  
  
"Now, Grace," John said, putting an arm on her shoulder. "Why am I not surprised by that?"  
  
An almost evil grin on her face, Grace laughed. "Probably because you knew you'd be forced to wear one, too." Holding up her hand, she presented him with a hat similar to the one she was wearing.  
  
"I don't know about that," John said, only to be interrupted.  
  
"John," Chloe said, "you have to. It's tradition."  
  
Bailey walked into the living room from where he had ducked into the kitchen. "Listen to her John," he said with a grin. "She's the boss on this party."  
  
With another glance at Chloe, John relented and put the hat on his head. "And why aren't you wearing one?" John asked, pointing at Bailey's head.  
  
Bailey was saved from responding when Sam walked into the living room holding a cake. "I wondered where you had disappeared to," John said, smiling at Sam.  
  
"Somebody had to light the candles, and for some reason," Sam replied with a grin, "I got the job."  
  
"Someone call the fire department," George quipped, taking a drink of tea. "That thing is a walking inferno."  
  
Glancing at George, John rolled his eyes. "Laugh it up, buddy. Did you forget that you're older than I am?"  
  
Grace laughed, and looked over at Sam. "And they we're bad about our ages."  
  
Sam laughed, and sat the cake down on the table just in time for George to comment. "Well, at least I'm not as old as Bailey."  
  
"Now that was uncalled for, Georgie," Bailey said with a grin.  
  
"Well," Chloe said, a grin on her face. "How many more candles can a cake hold?"  
  
"Get over here, kiddo," John said with a grin. "Someone has to help the old man blow out the candles out before the cake is sealed in wax forever."  
  
Grace laughed, and mumbled, "That's probably the truth."  
  
"Grace," Sam shispered, elbowing her in the side, laughing. "You're terrible."  
  
"If you two ladies would like to pay attention," John said, winking at Chloe. "We could get this show over with and I can lose the hat."  
  
"By all means," Sam said, laughing. "But try to not get wax all over the table."  
  
George grinned. "And hurry it up, will ya?" Pretending to wipe his forehead, he added, "It's getting hot in here."  
  
"Aren't all of you just a laugh a minute," John replied. Turning to Chloe, he asked, "Ready?"  
  
Nodding, she laughed. "Let's do it."  
  
***  
  
"So how was your birthday?" Sam asked that night after they had tucked Chloe into bed.  
  
Smiling, John held out his hand, and waited until she had sat next to him on the couch before responding. "Embarrassing. Not my usual birthday event," he said with a grin. Smiling, he brushed a lock of hair out of Sam's eyes. "But one of the best I've had in years."  
  
"Good," Sam replied, "because I got a picture of you wearing the hat." Laughing, she continued, "Just something to remember it by."  
  
"An embarrassing something," he said with a laugh.  
  
Sam nodded and grinned. "Only for you."  
  
"Thanks," he said a moment later.  
  
Sam smiled. "You're welcome. Chloe's been bugging me about it for days."  
  
"I had my suspicions," he said with a grin.  
  
"Really?" Sam asked, her right hand playing with his hair.  
  
John nodded, and dead-panned, "Although not about the hats."  
  
Sam laughed, and leaned forward. "Well, that's something I suppose." The words were just past her lips when she kissed him. "Happy birthday."  
  
Smiling with his eyes half closed, John replied, "Um, I like that present." When Sam laughed, he leaned back so that they were half laying on the couch, and kissed her. "Yeah, I like that."  
  
"Good," she grinned, stealing another kiss. "I do, too."  
  
***  
  
It was the last Saturday in June when John asked Chloe if she wanted to learn how to play softball.   
  
"Really?" Chloe asked, smiling.  
  
John nodded. "Yeah, every kid should play softball."  
  
"Can we teach Mom, too?" she asked, her eyes bright.  
  
"Can we teach Mom what?" Sam asked, walking into the living room.  
  
Chloe jumped up from the chair where she had been sitting. "John wants to teach me how to play softball. I never learned when I was little."  
  
Sam smiled sadly for a moment, remembering all the things Chloe wasn't able to do when she was little. "That sounds like fun," she said a moment later. "But what are you going to do about a glove and bat?"  
  
"I've got that covered," John said from where he was standing behind Chloe.  
  
Smiling, Sam replied, "Then it sounds like we need to go to the park."  
  
"Cool!" Chloe said, "I'll go change." Without waiting for Sam or John to change their minds, she ran up the stairs to her room.  
  
She had been gone for a few seconds when John looked at Sam. "You shouldn't feel guilty, Sam."  
  
Sam blinked, and focused on John. "Who says I'm feeling guilty?"  
  
"I do," he said softly, and brushed her cheek with his hand. "I can see it in your eyes."  
  
Sam looked up at John's understanding eyes and nodded. "Just one more thing that Jack kept her from."  
  
"Well," John said, pulling her into a hug and kissing her on the forehead. "We're making up for it as we go along, right?"  
  
Sam looked up at John and smiled. "Thanks."  
  
A brilliant grin flashing on his face, John pulled away from the embrace. "All part of the service."  
  
"Ready to go?" Chloe asked after bounding down the stairs.  
  
Laughing, John replied, "Whenever you are, kiddo."  
  
***  
  
"Good hit, Chlo," Sam yelled, clapping as Chloe ran around the bases, stopping on second. It had been two weeks since John had started teaching her, and she had taken to the sport almost immediately.  
  
John walked over and sat next to Sam on the small bleachers. "I missed her first hit?" he asked, after seeing Chloe on base.  
  
Sam nodded. "Just a little late for it." She glanced over at John. "Did you finish up the case?" she asked, looking back across the field at Chloe when the next batter walked up to the plate.  
  
"Finally," John said, leaning back on the bleacher. "I was starting to worry I'd miss the whole game."  
  
Sam smiled. "I'm just glad that one is over. It was a little spooky, if you ask me."  
  
John laughed, and looked at Sam disbelievingly. "Did I just hear you call something spooky?"  
  
"That did sound bad, didn't it?" she laughed, squinting behind her sunglasses.  
  
Grinning, John replied, "Something like that." A few moments later, John asked, "So how does she seem to be taking to the team?"  
  
"Great," Sam observed, "considering she just joined and the rest of them have been playing together since the beginning of the season."  
  
John looked out at the field as Chloe took off running for third base. "I'm glad that it worked out for her. It would have been a long wait till next spring"  
  
"I'm not so sure that Kora or her parents would agree with you," Sam said, glancing over at John. It was because of Kora's unfortunate jungle gum accident that resulted in a broken arm that Chloe was able to join the team.  
  
John chuckled softly. "Probably not."  
  
A moment later, they were both standing up and cheering as Chloe ran from third base to home, increasing the teams lead to five to two. "Way to go, kiddo!" John yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.  
  
From the dugout, Chloe looked up and waved at John, who waved back. Sitting back down, John commented, "She's a natural."  
  
"Unlike her Mom," Sam commented with a laugh.  
  
John grinned. "Maybe that's what I'm for."  
  
Nodding, Sam smiled. "Well, that's what got us through basketball season."  
  
***  
  
A week later was Chloe's birthday. That Saturday afternoon, John and Sam were standing in the middle of a crowd of Chloe's friends at a ice skating rink. "Sure you're up for this?" Sam asked with a laugh, looking at John.  
  
"I can handle a few kids," John said, glancing around the group. A moment later, he quickly added, "And at least I can ice skate."  
  
Sam laughed, shaking her head. "Yes, but can you handle fifteen kids?" Before John could say anything, she added, "And I can ice skate."  
  
"Really?" John asked with a grin, helping one of Chloe's friends lace up his skates.  
  
Sam nodded. "I just didn't say how well I could ice skate."  
  
Helping the boy to his feet, John waited until he was walking away to comment. "Oh, this could be fun."  
  
"Just wait," she said, and stood up. She had only been on her feet for a few seconds when she started swaying. "A little help here?"  
  
John caught her, holding her up with his arms around her waist. "Oh, yeah. This is going to be a show."  
  
Rolling her eyes, Sam blew a lock of hair out of her eyes with a exacerbated breath. Having regained her balance, she commented, "You can let go now."  
  
Grinning, he said, "Sure, thing."   
  
A moment later, he was skating across the ice. Weaving through the people, he would stop occasionally to help someone who had fallen. It was a few minutes later when he noticed that Sam hadn't followed him onto the ice. Skating over to the door, he asked, "Decide not to embarrass yourself?"  
  
"Decided someone should be able to walk in case something happened," she replied, shaking her head.  
  
"Uh-huh," John replied, grinning. "How long till melt down?"  
  
Sam smiled at his new found term for lighting the candles on the cake. "About half an hour. Now get back out there and show the kids how it's done."  
  
Saluting, John laughed. "Reporting for duty, sir." he replied before skating back out toward the center of the ice.  
  
***  
  
"Chloe," John said, walking toward the house. "I swear, I'm going to charge you by the pound for hauling this stuff into the house."  
  
Giggling, Chloe ducked in front of him to hold the door open. "What if I let you play with some of it?" she asked once he was inside.  
  
Sitting the pile of presents down on the dining room table, he grinned. "We could probably work something out."  
  
"Nope," Sam said, walking into the dining room. "Off the table."  
  
"Mom," Chloe sighed.  
  
Fighting a grin, Sam replied, "Sorry, kid. Take time to take the haul upstairs."  
  
Nodding, Chloe picked up as much as she could carry and carefully began walking up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, Sam asked, "So you survived?"  
  
John laughed. "I don't know what you were worried about, that was a piece of cake."  
  
"That's not what you were thinking when Mike almost bowled you over," she said, glancing across the pile of presents that was still on the table. Looking up, she laughed at the expression on John's face. "Forget about that?"  
  
Smiling, John rubbed his leg. "I was trying to." A few seconds later, Chloe ran into the room and picked the rest of the presents up off of the table. After she left, John said, "When are we giving her our present?"  
  
"How does tonight sound?" she asked. "Grace and George are coming over for dinner, we could do it then."  
  
John nodded. "Is Bailey still out of town?"  
  
"As of last night, he was still in Washington," Sam replied. "So he won't be here."  
  
John laughed. "And I was even going to make him wear a hat."  
  
Sam rolled her eyes. "Maybe next year, Grant."  
  
***  
  
After dinner that night, they had just walked out of the dining room and onto the back porch when Grace asked, "So, Chlo. Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?"  
  
Chloe grinned, and waited until John had sat down on a bench before jumping in his lap. "I think so," she said once she was sitting.  
  
John couldn't help but laugh. "I hope so, your room can only hold so much more stuff, kiddo."  
  
"It's not that bad, John," Chloe said, giggling.  
  
"Oh it's not, huh?" he asked, laughing as he tickled her.  
  
George grinned, and remarked, "I think we need a camera on this."  
  
"Why's that?" Grace asked, glancing over at George.  
  
Laughing, he replied, "Think about it. Bachelor extraordinare, John Grant, happy family man?"  
  
From where she was standing next to George, Sam punched him lightly in the arm. "Watch your mouth. The last thing I need is you giving the poor guy ideas."  
  
"Yeah," Grace said, grinning at John. "Poor guy's head might suddenly explode."  
  
"At least you'd have to clean *that* mess up," Sam said, looking over at Grace.  
  
"Can the poor guy in question interject something here?" John asked, resting his chin on Chloe's head.  
  
Grace and Sam laughed, responding simultaneously. "No."  
  
"Outnumbered, buddy," George observed dryly.  
  
Sam walked inside and came back out carrying a present. "Ready for the last of the load?" she asked, laughing as she handed Chloe the gift.  
  
Grace laughed as Chloe tore into the present. "I'd say someone is happy the day isn't over yet."  
  
"Wow," Chloe said, her eyes wide as she pulled the ball glove out of the package. "This looks old."  
  
Sam muffled her laughter as John replied, "Not *that* old, kiddo. It was my glove when I was your age. I found it in some storage boxes a little while back."  
  
George rolled his eyes, and laughed. "A used gift. Boy, John, remind me to tell you when it's my birthday."  
  
"Stop it," John said, laughing. "It's not used, it has character."  
  
"Uh-huh," Grace said, smiling.  
  
John watched as Chloe turned it over in her hands. "Like it, little one?"  
  
Nodding, Chloe reached up and gave John a hug. "It's great!"  
  
"I think there's something else in there, Chlo," Sam said, smiling when Chloe hugged John.  
  
"Will you hold this?" Chloe asked, handing John the glove. When he took the glove, she dug back into the gift. "Neat," she said, carefully pulling out a wooden music box. When she turned it over and wound up the small dial, the two porcelain figures on top began to spin slowly and dance.  
  
"Do you like it?" Sam asked, watching Chloe's reaction. "We saw it and thought you might add it to the other music boxes you have."  
  
Nodding, Chloe smiled, watching the figures move. "It's great, Mom."  
  
"Here," John said, laying the ball glove down, "let me set that down so it doesn't get broken accidentally."  
  
"Thanks," Chloe said, handing the breakable object to him. Taking it, John turned and placed it down next to the glove.  
  
"Actually . . ." Sam said a far away look in her eyes. Again, she disappeared into the house.  
  
John watched her walk inside and again rested his chin on Chloe's head. Looking over at Grace, he asked, "What was that about?"  
  
Shrugging, she replied, "Don't ask me. Haven't figured your wife out yet?"  
  
"Apparently not," he said, grinning as Chloe burst into laughter.  
  
A few moments later, Sam walked back out onto the porch. "George had a good idea," she said, holding a camera. Before John could move, she snapped a picture of Chloe sitting in his lap, with his chin on her head.  
  
"Awww," George said with a wry grin. "How cute."  
  
Shaking his head, John laughed. "Shut up, George, or your next."  
  
"Don't tell George to shut up," Chloe chastised, turning around to face John.  
  
George grinned, and took advantage of the situation. "Yeah, listen to the kid. Don't tell George to shut up."  
  
Sam, standing off to the side, snapped another picture of John and Chloe. This time, Chloe was looking up at him, laughing at the bantering exchange.  
  
While they were distracted arguing, Grace walked over to stand next to Sam. "What are you doing?" she asked in a whisper.  
  
Sam smiled, but shrugged. "Making a memory, I suppose. Isn't that what photographs are?"  
  
Grace nodded. "I suppose. However, I recall someone else using that phrase," she said quietly.   
  
"Who?" Sam asked, snapping another picture, this one including George.  
  
Grace took a sip of her drink. "John, actually. Referring to you and Chloe."  
  
Sam paused for a moment and looked at Grace. "He said that?"  
  
"Back before he left," Grace said, beginning to regret ever mentioning it.  
  
Sam smiled sadly and tilted her head, looking back over at the other three. "Thanks for telling me."  
  
Nodding, Grace grinned and changed the subject. "I guess it helps that you used to take pictures, huh?"  
  
"You could say that," she said with a laugh, her mood lightened. "Saves on development charges."  
  
"What are you two whispering about?" John asked, interrupting their discussion.  
  
George laughed. "They do that a lot, don't they?"  
  
Grace shook her head. "We were discussing photography if you must know."  
  
"Just as well we were left out, huh, kiddo?" John asked, tickling Chloe in the ribs.  
  
Laughing, Chloe nodded her head. It was Sam who commented, laughing as she said, "That will teach you to stick your nose in next time."  
  
"I've got an idea," Grace said, breaking into the conversation.  
  
"What's that?" John asked, looking over at her.  
  
Taking the camera from Sam, she replied, "Sam, go sit next to John."  
  
"Grace . . ."  
  
Laughing, she replied, "Don't argue, just sit. I won't break your camera, I promise."  
  
"Or at least she'll pay to have it repaired," George commented dryly.  
  
"Very funny," Grace said, rolling her eyes. After Sam had sat next to John, he put his arm around her shoulders. "That's good," she said, looking through the viewfinder.  
  
From where he was now standing next to Grace, George commented, "Come on, buddy. Let's see a real smile."  
  
A grin on her face, Sam reached over and tickled his ribs, causing him to laugh. During the distraction, Grace fired the shutter on the camera. "That's one," she said with a grin.  
  
"One?" John asked, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. "What is this? A photo shoot?"  
  
Shaking his head and laughing, George said, "Shut up, John."  
  
Managing a half-laugh, John tickled Chloe, who was laughing at the exchange. "Where's my defense, huh, kiddo?"  
  
"Sorry, John," she replied, giggling. "He had a point."  
  
Hearing Chloe's comment, Sam burst out laughing. When she almost had her laughter under control, she leaned her head over and rested her forehead on the side of John's head. "I think she's picked up your sense of humor," she said, still laughing softly.  
  
While the others were joking, Grace stood off just to the side and continued to take pictures of the laughing group. She wasn't sure why, she forced herself to admit. It just felt like something she should do.  
  
***  
  
While the rest of July was amazingly slow at the VCTF, during August the caseload picked up dramatically. During a break one afternoon, John ducked into Sam's office.  
  
"How's the Miller case coming?" he asked, leaning against the corner of her desk.  
  
Sam leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. "Slow. We've already been out to the crime scene twice with no progress."  
  
John nodded, and replied, "It looks like the confession we managed to get yesterday from Adams is going to stick. Apparently I'll be rejoining the group earlier than expected."  
  
Sam smiled, and laid a hand on his arm. "I know you weren't thrilled by being assigned to that case."  
  
Shaking his head, John replied, "No, I'm just getting tired of being the one picked every time Atlanta PD needs hand holding, that's all."  
  
"We could probably use some fresh ideas," Sam said, glancing over the files she had on her desk. "I know I feel like I'm hitting a brick wall. Although, I can't speak for Bailey or George."  
  
Walking around to stand behind her, John rested his hands on her shoulders and began to give her a back rub. Sitting up straighter in her chair, she observed, "You might want to rethink that."  
  
"Why's that?" he asked, grinning.  
  
Letting her head roll forward, she replied, "Because you're putting me to sleep."  
  
Laughing, John dropped his hands. "Can't have that. Bailey would shoot me for sure."  
  
"Should have kept my mouth shut," Sam said with a smile when John resumed his place leaning on the edge of her desk.  
  
Laughing, John replied, "Too late now, the offer expired."  
  
"Sadist," Sam remarked, shaking her head.  
  
"I do my best," John said with a wink. A moment later, he added, "It looks like I'll actually get to cut out of here on time today. How about you?"  
  
Glancing at the clock on the wall, Sam sighed. "Not very likely. I'm supposed to meet Bailey and George in fifteen minutes."  
  
John nodded. "Want me to come with you?"  
  
Smiling, Sam shook her head. "No thanks. Besides, Chloe's been waiting for days for you to work with her on her jump shot."  
  
"Basketball season isn't for a while yet," he replied a moment later.  
  
Grinning, she leaned back in her chair. "Well, like some people I know, patience was never her strongest suit."  
  
"Me?" John asked, raising a hand to his chest. When she laughed, he continued, "I've never heard such a thing."  
  
Sam smiled, and stood. Moving to stand in front of him, she cupped his cheek with her hand. "Then, Grant, I'd say it's time we had your hearing checked."  
  
"Isn't it time for your meeting yet?" John asked with a laugh.  
  
Sam shook her head. "Not yet," she replied with a wink. A second later, she ran her fingers through his hair and added, "Although, I'd have to say it's time for you to get a hair cut."  
  
Suddenly uneasy, John glanced up at Sam. "You think?"  
  
"You can't let it regrow forever, John," she said softly. "What do you say? This weekend, if we're both home, I'll give you a haircut."  
  
John laughed. "Remember where that got us the last time?"  
  
"That has to have been the oddest first date I ever had," she replied with a smile.  
  
John stood up while Sam gathered her papers for her meeting. "Since when was that our first date? I thought that was later."  
  
"Not according to Grace and George," Sam said, glancing over at John's expression. "And you have to admit, they have a point."  
  
"Maybe," he replied, trying not to smile. "Can you believe that was over a year ago?"  
  
Laughing, she commented, "There are days . . ."  
  
"Stop it," John replied with a grin, holding the door open for her. Once they were both out of the office, he closed the door behind them. Sam glanced sideways at John, who added, "And no puppy dog eyes either, they won't work this time."  
  
Smiling, Sam asked, "This time?"  
  
John rolled his eyes, muttering, "You're going to drive me crazy yet."  
  
"But only because I love you," she replied, giving his hand a squeeze before disappearing into Bailey's office.  
  
***  
  
"Grant, sit still or I'm going to cut off your ear," Sam said, trying to angle his head forward.  
  
John laughed, and tried to sit as still as possible. "But then I'd be like Evander Holifield."  
  
"Maybe," Sam said, busy trimming his hair. "But I bet you'd whine more."  
  
John shook his head, snickering, only to have Sam hold his head still. "And to think, I used to hit the town on Saturday nights."  
  
Sam laughed around the comb she was holding between her teeth. Removing the comb, she sighed. "And to think, I used to only have one kid to raise."  
  
"That was low," John remarked with a laugh.  
  
"I know," Sam replied with a grin. "You're so abused."  
  
A moment later, Chloe ran into the kitchen. "Are you done yet?" she asked, checking on their progress.  
  
"Almost," Sam said, glancing over at Chloe. "Oops," she added a second later.  
  
"What?" John asked, tensing.  
  
"Um," Sam said before pausing.  
  
John tried to grab the mirror from the kitchen table, but Sam wouldn't let him. "You scalped me, didn't you?" he asked, his voice weary.  
  
"No," Sam replied, and Chloe burst out laughing. When she saw realization dawning in John's eyes, Sam too burst out laughing. "Gotcha," she said with a grin.  
  
Grinning, John turned around and grabbed Sam around the waist and pulled her down in his lap. "Okay, kiddo. You get the scissors, I'll hold her still."  
  
When Chloe reached to take the scissors, Sam laughed, but held on tighter to them, careful to keep the blade end in her hand. "Chlo, don't even think about listening to him. He's deranged."  
  
"I'm deranged?" John asked with a laugh.  
  
Sam grinned, still trying to get free. "I'd say so."  
  
Chole laughed. "I'd say you're both crazy."  
  
"Gee, Sam," John remarked, holding on to Sam tighter. "I'd say she picked up your professional bedside manner."  
  
Shaking her head, Sam grinned. "Okay, that means war, Grant." Reaching around as best she could, she started tickling John on the ribs, the scissors fell forgotten to the floor.  
  
Seeing an opportunity, Chloe moved around to start tickling John from the side. John's hands, however, were busy trying to stop Sam. "Hey, no fair. This is two against one," he said around his laughter.  
  
"Now you know how I usually feel," Sam said with a grin. "Get him, Chlo," she added a second later.  
  
A few minutes later, the tickle fight had ended, and John was trying to catch his breath. "Are we going to play ball now?" Chloe asked.  
  
John looked up at Sam. "Done torturing me yet?"  
  
Sam laughed, shaking her head. "I give up. You two go play like good little kids."  
  
"Yeah!" Chloe cried, running out of the kitchen. "I'll go get my basketball and meet you outside."  
  
John turned to Sam and wrapped his arms around her waist, a smile on his lips. "You're great, you know that?"  
  
"For giving you a haircut?"   
  
"Something like that," he said in a low voice before kissing her. When the kiss ended, he smiled. "Guess I should go play now."  
  
Sam laughed. "Call me mom after kissing me like that and I'll hurt you."  
  
Grinning, John let go and walked over to the door. "Wouldn't even dream of it." A second later he turned around and winked. "Now clean this mess up."  
  
"You used to have french maid fantasies, didn't you?" Sam asked, grinning.  
  
John nearly choked on his laughter. "Now that's a comment I never expected to hear from you." Turning, he hurried to get outside before Chloe came looking for him.  
  
***  
  
Sitting on the exam table, John couldn't help feeling exposed. He wasn't sure if it was the rather unattractive paper clothing, or the sterile white walls that seemed to stare at him. He had been waiting for almost five minutes when Doctor Thompson walked into the room.  
  
"Good to see you again, John," he said, smiling at his patient.  
  
"Pardon me if I don't share the sentiment," John replied frankly. "This isn't the highlight of my week."  
  
The doctor nodded in understanding. "Then what do you say we get this over with and you can get back to work?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan," John said with a terse nod.  
  
Glancing over John's chart, Doctor Thompson remarked, "I imagine you know the drill by now."  
  
John held out his arm. "Let's get the blood over with first."  
  
"I expected as much," the doctor replied with a faint smile.  
  
Laying back on the bed, John's eyes scanned over the ceiling while Doctor Thompson went about his work. "Since I was clean last time," John said eventually, "how likely is it to come back now?"  
  
Glancing at John's face, Thompson spoke while he worked. "Well, I would say that each time is less. But there are no certainties."  
  
"I was afraid you would say that," John said, his gaze never leaving the ceiling.  
  
Knowing that talking distracted any patient during a procedure, Doctor Thompson asked, "How is married life?"  
  
John smiled. "You remembered?"  
  
The doctor nodded, something almost like a grin on his face. "Hard not to, what with the way you acted the last time you were in." He paused for a moment. "And the ring was something of a reminder."  
  
"It's great, doc," John admitted, twisting the solid gold band on his finger absent mindedly.  
  
The doctor nodded. "I would have expected as much. The two of you seemed very happy."  
  
"Your news that day didn't hurt," John replied, staying very still as Doctor Thompson finished.  
  
Pulling off his gloves, Doctor Thompson leaned back in his chair. "Well, no reason to assume this time will be any different."  
  
John sat up, careful to keep the back of his gown closed. "I guess I'll believe that when I hear it."  
  
Nodding, Doctor Thompson stood. "Then I'll see you both next week."  
  
***  
  
"Nervous?" Sam asked, glancing over at John once they were in the car. Before he replied, she backed the car out of the spot and drove through the parking deck and pulled into traffic.  
  
John shook his head. "Why should I be nervous?" he asked, his voice tight.  
  
Sam sighed. John had been edgy ever since going to the doctor the week before for his second follow up test. "No reason, I suppose," she replied, keeping her eyes on the traffic.  
  
Hearing the hurt in her voice, John sighed. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."  
  
Sam nodded, and glanced over at him. "I know. You're just nervous."  
  
John grinned faintly. "Maybe I am."  
  
A few minutes later, they pulled into a parking spot outside the now very familiar building that housed Doctor Thompson's offices. "Ready?" she asked after she killed the car.  
  
Glancing over at Sam, John managed a crooked grin. "Let's do it."  
  
It was twenty minutes later before John was able to breath again. "Everything looks fine," Doctor Thompson said, after showing them into his office.  
  
John took a shaky breath, and Sam smiled. Giving his hand a squeeze, as she had done during his last check up, she said, "See? Nothing to worry about."  
  
Doctor Thompson smiled. "I can see that you have quite the supportive wife, Agent Grant."  
  
Glancing over at Sam, John smiled. "You can say that again."  
  
"So, well see you again in three months."  
  
Nodding, John replied, "Early December?"  
  
The doctor nodded, and Sam and John stood up. "Just see the nurse on your way out and set up the appointment. That time of year get's rather busy, as you can probably imagine."  
  
"Thank you," Sam said with a smile before they walked out of the office.  
  
Walking to the car, Sam asked, "So, what should we do to celebrate?"  
  
"Celebrate?" John asked.  
  
Nodding, Sam replied, "Sure. We should do something, don't you think?"  
  
"Okay," John said with a grin. "But what would that be?"  
  
Sam glanced at her watch, and said, "Well, we have the rest of the day off, and Chloe won't be home from school for two hours."  
  
Laughing, John pulled her to a halt beside the car. "Now, Sam, would you be suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"  
  
Raising her eyebrows, Sam smiled. "That would depend on what you think I'm suggesting." Before John could reply, she leaned up and kissed him. "But I think we're probably on the same page," she added after the kiss ended.  
  
"You have a french maid outfit?" John asked with a dead-pan expression.  
  
Laughing, Sam shook her head. "Grant, get in the car."  
  
***  
  
"Tell me again why you're not working on this case, too?" John asked, talking to Sam on the telephone.  
  
Sighing softly, Sam replied, "Because I'm needed in court for the case we finished six months ago."  
  
John tried to grin. "I knew that." Laying back on his hotel bed, he raised his free arm over his head and stretched before folding it under his head. "How is it we always worked cases on the road together *before* we got married?"  
  
"You noticed that pattern too, huh?" Sam asked with a laugh. She was sitting on the couch, Chloe's head resting on her lap. They had been watching a movie and Chloe had finally given in and fallen asleep.  
  
John grinned. "Yeah, I noticed that pattern." He paused, and then asked, "How's the kiddo?"  
  
Sam smiled, and twirled a loose strand of Chloe's hair around her finger. "She's great. Out cold with me on the couch as we speak."  
  
"The phone didn't wake her did it?" John asked.  
  
Sam couldn't help but smile at the concern in John's voice. "Nothing short of a hurricane will wake this kid up once she's asleep."  
  
"Don't look at me like that," John kidded, "she didn't pick it up from being around me."  
  
Shaking her head, Sam asked, "We're on the phone. How could I be looking at you funny?"  
  
Pushing another pillow under his head, John laughed. "Because I know that tone of voice."  
  
"Oh you do?" Sam said, laughing quietly, glancing down at Chloe.  
  
Laughing John replied, "Afraid so, and you've been busted."  
  
Sam smiled, and rested the phone between her ear and her shoulder. "I love you," she said after a few silent seconds.  
  
"I love you, too," he whispered back. A moment later, he asked, "Have you decided what you want to do for your birthday yet?"  
  
Sam shook her head, and picked the phone back up with her hand. "Not yet. That's still a couple of weeks away. It's not even October yet."  
  
John laughed. "Yeah, but this time last year I was a wreck."  
  
"So I was told," she said, humor filtering through in her voice.  
  
John laughed, realizing who had told. "Grace, huh?"  
  
"That would be the one, yes," Sam replied, still playing with Chloe's hair. She sat there, listening to the sound of John breathing on the other end of the line. "I talked to Bailey earlier, he said you should be back in a couple of days."  
  
"I hope so," John replied. "This case is falling together fairly quickly."  
  
Sam covered a yawn with her hand. "No more incidents?"  
  
"No," John said, recognizing Sam's attempt to word things carefully, even if Chloe was asleep. "Only one since we arrived."  
  
Sam sighed. "I wish they were all that easy."  
  
John smiled. "We all do."  
  
***  
  
Standing at a crime scene almost two weeks later, John observed the area while holding an umbrella over his and Sam's head. "Does it ever *not* rain here?" he asked, sparing a glance at the sky.  
  
Managing a short laugh, Sam glanced up at his face. "Well, we wanted to work on a case together."  
  
"It would have to be in Seattle," John said, rolling his eyes.  
  
A moment later, Grace walked over to them. "I think we've accomplished as much out here as were going to be able to."  
  
Sam nodded. "Did the rain leave anything?"  
  
"Not much." Grace glanced over at where medics were loading the body into an ambulance. "You've got to give this guy credit, if you're going to kill someone."  
  
"Do it somewhere it rains a lot," John finished with a smirk.  
  
Laughing, Grace observed. "You don't care for rain?"  
  
"He's worried he might melt," Sam quipped with a wink.  
  
Grace laughed, and glanced at John before saying, "Or that a house will fall on him."  
  
Rolling his eyes, John replied, "Remind me again why I don't transfer."  
  
"Because you can't live without us," Grace offered.  
  
"Oh, yeah," John commented dryly, but with the hint of a grin on his face. "That must be it."  
  
It was a minute later when Bailey walked over. "Any thoughts, Sammy?"  
  
"I'll need to go over the details from the previous murders before I can get back to you," she said, brushing her hair out of her face.  
  
Bailey nodded. "Then let's go ahead and go back to the police station." A second later, he added as an afterthought, "And get out of this blasted rain."  
  
When Sam smiled, Grace commented, "Must be a guy thing."  
  
***  
  
"Okay," Sam said, pacing next to a small table. "So far, we know that the victims were stabbed from behind."  
  
Grace walked in and dropped a folder onto the table. "An uppercut, to be precise."   
  
"Someone short?" John asked, glancing at the papers in the folder.  
  
Sam shook her head. "Not necessarily."  
  
"I've got the photo's from the first murder," George said from behind his computer. "Victim number one. Allison Murphy, age thirty four."  
  
Bailey glanced at one of the files on the table. "She was found just over two weeks ago, by a hiker just outside of town."  
  
"I read over that report," Grace said. "At the time they didn't have anything to connect it with, but the wounds are the same for all four victims."  
  
Sam chewed on the lid of her pen distractedly. "The victims had no connection. An up and coming local executive officer, a computer programmer, a biologist and a lawyer." She paused before saying, "We have to be missing something."  
  
"But what?" Bailey asked.  
  
John thought for a minute. "Where did the exec officer work, George?"  
  
A few key clicks later, George answered, "A local chemical company, Jarison Chemicals."  
  
"There could be your connection between the first and third victims," John said a second later.  
  
"How so?" Bailey asked, looking over at John.  
  
Shrugging, John replied, "Around here? You have a lot of environmentalists. This isn't the best area to work for a chemical company."  
  
Grace shook her head. "But a biologist?"  
  
"What if he cleared the company for something in the past?" John suggested, suddenly on a roll. "Something our killer doesn't think the company deserved to get away with?"  
  
From where he was sitting, George said, "Give me a second, I've got an idea." It was a couple of minutes later, when he said, "Got it. Marc Carey, our biologist, freelanced with Jarison six years ago."  
  
"Johnny," Bailey said with a grin, "you just might be onto something."  
  
John grinned, but it was Sam who said, "Grace, was there a toxicology report done on the victims?"  
  
"The basics, yeah," she replied, "but the cause of death was rather obvious, so a more detailed check was skipped."  
  
Sam nodded. "When you go back to the morgue, check the latest victims for any traces of chemicals produced at Jarison. The stabbing might just be to hide the real killer."  
  
"Right on it." Standing, Grace walked out of the room.  
  
A minute later, Bailey asked, "So how do the programmer and economist fit the picture?"  
  
George laughed. "That's where I come in."  
  
"Then we'll leave you to it," Bailey remarked, standing. "I need to go speak with the police chief."  
  
After Bailey walked out of the room, Sam glanced over at John and smiled. "I thought I was the profiler."  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, watching as she sat in the chair next to him.  
  
She tilted her head. "You seemed to have quite the handle on this one."  
  
"Yeah, well," he replied, suddenly chagrined. "Something just clicked."  
  
"I'd say so," George remarked a second later. When he had both Sam and John's attention, he continued. "Rachel Morrigan, computer programmer. Worked for Hartwell Development. Four years ago, she was assigned to work on a project for none other than Jarison Chemicals."  
  
Sam nodded. "That's why we missed the connection. Neither Carey or Morrigan worked directly for Jarison, unlike Allison Murphy."  
  
"But what about Garrett Simms?" John asked, referring to the lawyer. "And what is the connection between the projects that linked Carey and Morrigan to the company two years apart?"  
  
George laughed. "I may be good, but you're going to have to give me at least two minutes to come up with those answers."  
  
John glanced at his watch. "Okay, go. Two minutes and counting."  
  
***  
  
The next afternoon, they had finally managed to piece together the puzzle. At three o'clock, they met in the same briefing room.  
  
"Thanks to what Sam mentioned," Grace said, "I checked for industrial chemicals in the victims. You might wonder why I hadn't found it before, but I have a reason for that."  
  
George laughed. "Somebody's defensive."  
  
Rolling her eyes, Grace continued. "The traces I found had almost been absorbed into the tissues. In fact, even if they had looked, I'm not sure there would have been enough left in the first two victims to find."  
  
"Is it developed at Jarison?" Bailey asked a moment later.  
  
Nodding, George replied, "I used some, ah, well, methods to compare the chemical structure that Grace gave me to those that are directly linked to Jarison." After typing for a moment, two slides appeared on a small screen, one a chemical composition analysis. "We have a winner."  
  
"How does it link to the victims, though?" John asked, looking at the monitor.  
  
George again typed in several commands to the computer, and displayed another graph. "It appears that the computer program was linked to controlling the substance, which had it's preliminary tests under one Doctor Marc Carey."  
  
"And the lawyer?" Bailey asked.  
  
George nodded, "He helped Jarison with the project, getting clearance with the feds."  
  
Bailey nodded, and stood up. "Good work. We have our connection, now we just have to link it to the killer." A moment later, he glanced over a John. With a half-smile and a nod, he added, "Good work, John."  
  
***  
  
Two days later, they had a suspect in custody and John and George flew back to Atlanta. "Glad to be going back?" George asked not long after the plane had taken off.  
  
John nodded, "It will be nice to see Chloe, although I wish Sam was coming home, too. Her birthday is this weekend."  
  
"Big plans?" George asked with a grin.  
  
Shaking his head, John responded, "Not anymore. They aren't supposed to get back from Seattle until next week."  
  
"You have to wonder," George said, "why it is we're flying home early."  
  
John laughed. "I think Bailey just wanted us out of their hair for the legal part of it."  
  
"Yeah," George replied, not convinced. "But you're the one who found the connection in the first place."  
  
Shrugging, John settled back into his seat. "Lots of things don't make much sense anymore, buddy." Closing his eyes, he relaxed into the seat. He was exhausted and glad for the chance to rest.  
  
"You've got that right," George added with a laugh.  
  
***  
  
Over a week later, the VCTF was working on another case, this one in Nevada. John, however, was left behind in Atlanta because of an upcoming court date.  
  
Dropping Sam off at the airport, he gave her a hug. "I guess I'll see you next week."  
  
Nodding, Sam managed a smile. "I know, once again, one of us is gone while the other stays home."  
  
"Well," John said, and managing his best Bogart impersonation, added, "We'll always have Seattle."  
  
Laughing, Sam gave him a quick kiss. "There's Bailey, I better go. You and Chlo have fun this weekend, okay?"  
  
"Don't we always?" John asked with a laugh.  
  
Sam grinned, just before walking away to board the jet. "That's what worries me."   
  
***  
  
"Hey, John," Chloe said with a laugh while they were raking leaves in the back yard on Sunday.  
  
Looking up, he asked, "What?"  
  
"This!" Chloe yelled, before tossing an armload of leaves in his face.  
  
Laughing, John dropped the rake and ran after Chloe. "Come here, kiddo. You're gonna pay for that."  
  
For several moments, each hid behind a pile of leaves, tossing handfuls at the other one. Throwing the leaves eventually turned into chasing one another with them.  
  
Finally catching up to Chloe, John grabbed her and walked over to the largest leaf pile. "Now, you have to pay, I'm afraid."  
  
Giggling, Chloe managed to say, "Wait, don't drop me in the leaf pile."  
  
"Sorry," John said, laughing as he let her fall onto the mound of colorful leaves.  
  
As soon as she was able to climb out of the pile, she launched herself at John's legs, and they both fell onto a smaller pile of leaves. For a while, they wrestled on the ground, scattering the leaves back all over the yard.  
  
Not too long later, John sat up. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Chloe and pinned her arms. "I'd say it's time we called a truce, little one."  
  
Grinning, she replied, "Aw, do we have to?"  
  
Nodding, John said, "Sorry, kiddo. If we want to get this cleaned back up by night fall, we have to get back to work."  
  
"Okay," Chloe said, moping as she picked the rake back up. "If we have to."  
  
John managed a grin. "Yep, we have to."  
  
When Chloe was distracted raking the leaves, John stretched his arms over his head and winced. He couldn't believe how sore he had gotten while they were roughhousing. Pushing the thought away, he picked his rake back up and helped Chloe to get the strewn leaves back into one large pile.  
  
For the rest of the evening, they bagged the leaves up and dropped them on the curb to be picked up the next day. Going inside, John waited until Chloe had taken a shower and changed into pajamas before stepping into the shower himself. Relaxing under the hot water, he still felt tired and couldn't wait to get in bed.  
  
Two hours later, after John helped Chloe finish her last minute homework, he tucked her in bed. "'Night, kiddo," he said, tucking the sheets around her.  
  
Smiling sleepily, she replied around a yawn. "Good night." When John kissed her on the nose, she whispered, "I love you."  
  
Just before turning to leave the darkened room, John smiled. "I love you, too, little one."  
  
Pulling the door shut behind him, John walked down the hall and gratefully sunk into the welcoming bed. Sighing, he turned off the lamp beside the bed and was soon fast asleep.  
  
***  
  
When John woke up the next morning he could already hear Chloe getting ready for school. Groaning as he forced his tired body out of bed, he walked down the hall and knocked on her door. "Hey, kiddo. Aren't I supposed to wake you up?"  
  
Smiling, Chloe replied, "I have an alarm, John." She giggled, adding, "I just don't always hear it."  
  
Glancing at the clock on the wall, John replied, "It's a good thing you did today, otherwise you would have been late. Finish getting ready and I'll go make breakfast, okay?"  
  
Chloe nodded, but asked, "Can we just have cereal?"  
  
"Why's that?" John asked with a confused grin, just before walking out of the room.  
  
Laughing, Chloe replied, "Because we've had eggs and toast every day since Mom left."  
  
"Comedian," John replied, rolling his eyes. "Okay, I'll fix cereal, but hurry up and finish getting ready."  
  
When Chloe nodded, John left the room and walked slowly downstairs. He had expected to feel better after a decent night's sleep, instead he felt even more tired. Now that he thought about it, he had been feeling more and more tired since before he left Seattle.  
  
Finding a box of cereal in the cupboard, John pushed the nagging question about being sick to the back of his mind. "Doc just cleared you, Johnny," he muttered to himself while fixing two bowls of cereal. "Not every little ache is connected to that. You just over did it."  
  
"Over did what?" Chloe asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.  
  
Silently berating himself for talking out loud, John blinked and forced a laugh. "The sugar in the cereal. Just don't tell your Mom."  
  
"Okay," she said with a giggle. "It will be our secret."  
  
Placing the bowl of cereal with the least sugar in it in front of Chloe, John grinned. "That's my kiddo," he said, ruffling her hair as she dug into the cereal.  
  
***  
  
"Trick or treat!" cried several small voices a second after the doorbell rang.  
  
Opening the door, John jumped into the doorway. His face covered by a wolfman mask, he managed a threatening growl. Laughing, he pushed the mask up to rest on the top of his head. "So, who wants chocolate?"  
  
The four kids grinned and held their bags out. "I do!" a couple of the kids cheered. Behind them, the adult grimaced, but hid a grin behind his hand.  
  
"There ya go," John said with a laugh, handing a piece of candy to each trick or treater.  
  
A second later, they turned and followed the path back to the sidewalk. "Thanks," they called over their shoulders.  
  
Closing the door, John sat the candy bowl on the table by the door and walked into the kitchen. He had barely had time to walk into the kitchen when the doorbell rang.  
  
Walking back to the front door, he pulled his mask on opened the door. He had managed half of a growl before he was shot in the face with a water soaker.  
  
Blinking the water out of his eyes, he looked down to see Chloe giggling. "Gotcha," she said, still grinning.  
  
"Okay, kiddo, that's it," he said, laughing. Pulling the wet mask from his face, he ran after Chloe, who was running across the yard.  
  
From where she was standing beside the door, Sam laughed when John caught up with Chloe and they started wrestling. Pulling her jacket tighter around her, Sam walked across the lawn to where John and Chloe were. "Don't make me get out the hose, you two," she said with a laugh.  
  
Laughing when Chloe tickled him, John glanced up at Sam. "I think you covered that when you armed this one with a Super Soaker." Pinning Chloe's arms to her sides, he laughed. "And now that I've got you where I want you . . ." Giggling when John started tickling her, Chloe managed to squirm free.  
  
Once they were both standing, Sam took John's hand and asked, "Have fun handing out candy?"  
  
"Well, most of the kids weren't out to get me," he said with a grin, ruffling Chloe's hair.  
  
Laughing, Chloe looked up at John. "I got you good."  
  
"And I got you back," he said with a laugh.  
  
Walking into the house, John held the door until Sam and Chloe were inside. "I think that's it for the trick or treaters tonight," Sam said, turning out the porch light.  
  
John nodded. "It's getting late. That would explain it, don't you think?"  
  
"Stop it," Sam replied, laughing. "You'd never even given out candy until this year."  
  
Chloe was trying to pull her costume over her head, but mumbled, "I doubt he'll fall for the Super Soaker trick again next year."  
  
"You're probably right, Chlo," Sam said with a grin, helping Chloe out of her costume.  
  
Laughing, Chloe held up her candy bag and asked, "Can we sort through my candy now?"  
  
"I suppose so," Sam replied, but added, "But remember. Only three pieces a day."  
  
"Mom," Chloe said, a full-blown pout on her face.  
  
Grinning, John grabbed the candy bag. "You heard the lady, kiddo." Placing the candy bag on the coffee table, he continued. "Besides, that means there's more for me."  
  
Jumping on John's back when he leaned over, Chloe started laughing. "Hands off my candy, John. Get your own."  
  
Chloe slid off of John's back when he stood up, and fell onto the couch. "Go for it, kiddo," John said, pointing at the pile of candy.  
  
Laughing as Sam helped Chloe pick though the candy, John sat down on the couch. Once she was sure the candy was okay, Sam sat next to John on the couch. "You feeling okay?" she asked a few minutes later.  
  
Nodding his head, John smiled. "I'm fine. Why?"  
  
Resting her head on his shoulder, Sam replied, "You just look tired, that's all."  
  
Kissing her on the top of the head, John shook his head. "Nope. I'm great."  
  
***  
  
Just over a week later, John was sitting at his cluttered desk, sorting though leftover paperwork when the phone rang. "Grant," John said after picking up the phone.  
  
"Mr. Grant? This is Nurse Simmons with Doctor Thompson's office. I was calling to see if you would be willing to reschedule your appointment."  
  
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, John glanced at the calendar on his desk. "Thanksgiving is in two weeks," he replied, "is there any way I could be done with both appointments before then?"  
  
On the other end of the line, he could hear several key clicks before she replied. "I can work that. How does the Thursday and the Tuesday before Thanksgiving sound to you?"  
  
"What times?" John asked, pulling the calendar over and scribbling out his appointment in December.  
  
After a pause, she replied, "Four p.m. on Thursday and two on Tuesday."  
  
He wrote the times down on the calendar. "Okay, I'll be there."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Grant," she replied before hanging up.  
  
Hanging up his phone, John muttered, "Yeah, thanks. That's just what I needed before the holiday."  
  
"What's that?" Grace asked, walking up to his desk.  
  
Shaking his head, John rubbed his neck. "Not much, my check-up was just rescheduled for next week."  
  
"You're not worried, are you?" Grace asked, looking at John with concern.  
  
"No, just an inconvenience I hadn't planned on, that's all," he said, leaning back in his chair. "So, what's up?"  
  
Taking the change in subject for what it was, Grace relented. "I'm going to make your day even better," she said. "I just finished the latest autopsy, the results don't match up with the previous findings. Well," she added with a grimace, "what there was to find on this one."  
  
"Great," John said, running his hands through his hair. "And it gets better."  
  
Grace smiled. "We'll break this case John, I'd say we're due."  
  
***  
  
Unlocking the front door, John walked into the dark house. Relocking the door behind him, he quietly walked through the house and up the stairs.  
  
Glancing in Chloe's room, he grinned when he saw her sleeping, one arm thrown over the bear he had given her almost a year before. Walking the rest of the way down the hall, he pushed the bedroom door open. For a moment he stood there, able to see because of the shaft of moonlight that broke through the curtains and fell across Sam's face.  
  
He had just finished changing out of his work clothes and into a pair of flannel pajama pants when Sam stirred. "I wondered how late you would get home," she said sleepily, looking up at John.  
  
Smiling, he crawled into bed and kissed her before replying, "I'm hoping this was the last late night for awhile."  
  
"Did you finally catch up to Moore?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair.  
  
John nodded, and smiled. "Yeah, we're hoping this miserable case is finally over. Talk about taking forever."  
  
Sam smiled before kissing him. "Good. Maybe we'll get to work together on the next case. I haven't seen Grace in weeks, practically."  
  
"Grace, huh?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye. "Didn't even miss me a little?"  
  
Laughing, Sam propped up on one elbow and kissed John again. "Well, maybe just a little," she replied softly.  
  
"Maybe you did," he kidded, kissing her back. "A little."  
  
"You know what, Grant?" Sam asked, a sly grin on her face. "You talk too much."  
  
***  
  
The next afternoon, John was again sitting in the doctor's office. "Okay, John," Doctor Thompson said after he walked in. "Lay back and we'll get this show on the road."  
  
"Easy for you to say," John muttered, rolling his eyes.  
  
Laughing softly, the doctor nodded. "True, it might be a little easier on this end."  
  
While he was working, Doctor Thompson asked, "So, do you have any plans for the holidays?"  
  
John smiled, thinking of the year before. "I think it's just going to be the three of us." At the doctor's confused look, he said, "Neither Sam or I have the best families, and most of our friends will be with theirs."  
  
Doctor Thompson nodded, and having finished with the procedure, said, "Well, except for an appointment on Tuesday, I'd say your set for a busy holiday season."  
  
Sitting up, John grinned. "Yeah, for the second time in my life I'm looking forward to it."  
  
"Well then," the doctor replied, "I wish you a wonderful holiday season. Although I'll see you next week." He paused before asking, "I assume Mrs. Grant will be with you?"  
  
John nodded. "Barring anything last minute, she'll be there like always."  
  
"Good," Doctor Thompson replied. "I'm glad."  
  
***  
  
The following Monday morning, John walked in to Sam's office and closed the door behind him. "I just talked to Bailey," he said, walking over to lean against the corner of her desk.  
  
Leaning back in her chair, Sam looked up at John. "What did he say?"  
  
"I'm going to stay here and hold down the fort for the next couple of days while the rest of you go to Oklahoma City," he replied, referring to the case they had discussed during the morning meeting.  
  
Sam nodded, but didn't look pleased. "I want to go with you to see Doctor Thompson tomorrow."  
  
"I know," he said, a smile on his face. "And that means a lot to me, but you're needed on this case. It's the holidays, no one should be going through what's happening out there."  
  
Sam nodded again, seeing the logic in his statement. "I just don't want you to go through that alone, that's all," she said, her voice almost a whisper.  
  
"Hey," he replied with a cocky grin. "I've been fine the last two times. Why should it be any different now?"  
  
Sam stood up, and faced John. Cupping his cheek in her hand, she replied, "You're great, you know that?"  
  
"I know," he said, his grin not fading.  
  
Laughing, Sam shook her head. "I've created a monster."  
  
"Nah," John replied. "He was already there." A moment later, still looking in her eyes, he continued, "You better go, Bailey will be waiting."  
  
Nodding, Sam agreed. "I know," she said softly. "When I get back we'll have a real Thanksgiving."  
  
"Last year wasn't real?" he asked with a laugh.  
  
Shaking her head, she replied, "We were in a hotel in Alabama, John."  
  
"Now that's the life I'm used to," John joked. "Microwave burgers from the gas station."  
  
"Yes, well," she replied, gathering a stack of files from her desk and placing them in her attache case. "Not this year if I can manage it."  
  
Just before walking out of the office, John gave Sam a quick kiss. "Good luck in Oklahoma. Chloe and I'll be waiting for this big dinner you've promised."  
  
Laughing, Sam walked through her office door and into the hallway. "I'm sure you will be, it won't include scrambled eggs and toast," she kidded.  
  
"Cook a kid breakfast, and she never lets you forget it," John said, his hands on his hips.  
  
"I know," Sam said with a sympathetic smile. "I always forget how you're so abused."  
  
Laughing, John shook his head. "Go catch your bad guy already."  
  
***  
  
Walking into Doctor Thompson's office, John sat in one of the chairs. "Agent Grant," the doctor said. "I thought your wife would be with us."  
  
"One of those last minute trips we're prone to came up," he replied. "She just left yesterday. So," he said, changing the subject, "what's the verdict this time?"  
  
Doctor Thompson closed the file he had been reading, and folded his hands together. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."  
  
"It's back," John replied, but it wasn't a question.  
  
Nodding, the doctor continued. "It would appear so." John closed his eyes. "I'll need to do another test today, to try and judge the rate of growth."  
  
John nodded, barely hearing the doctor over the sudden roar in his ears. "How long?"  
  
Understanding his question, Doctor Thompson rubbed his eyes. "It's hard to say before this next test."  
  
"You can still estimate," John said, pressing for a response.  
  
"All I can say, at the moment," he said, stressing the last part, "is that taking into account how recent your last check-up was, this seems to be developing much faster than last time."  
  
He clinch his fists at his sides. "When do I need to come back?"  
  
"We can do the test now, if that's okay. Then you'll have to come back Monday."  
  
John blinked slowly, the news setting in. "I have to wait over the holiday?" A million different things ran through his mind at once, including how he was possibly going to tell Sam.  
  
"I'm sorry about the timing, John. I really am," Doctor Thompson said, "but I can tell you more then."  
  
Nodding, John clenched his jaw. "Then let's get this over with."  
  
***  
  
It was late Wednesday night before the rest of the team arrived back in Atlanta. Sam called John from the airport to let him know that she would be home in a couple of hours.  
  
"That's it, kiddo," John said after hanging up the phone. "Give it up, bed time."  
  
Chloe pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I wanted to stay up and see Mom."  
  
Shaking his head, John replied, "You can see her in the morning." Leading Chloe toward the stairs, he added, "She's not going to be home early enough for you to stay up."  
  
"Okay," Chloe said, walking into her room.  
  
John smiled. "Get changed and I'll come back and tuck you in."  
  
A few minutes later, John knocked on Chloe's door. "Come in," she called out, pulling the door open.  
  
"Ready, kiddo?" John asked, following her across the room.  
  
Chloe nodded, and climbed onto the bed. "Yep."  
  
"Okay," John said, and tucked the covers around her. "Sweet dreams, little one," he said and kissed her on the nose.  
  
She smiled as her eyes drooped closed. "'Love you."  
  
John stepped back and walked across the room. A sad smile on his face, he blinked against a burning behind his eyes. "I love you, too."  
  
***  
  
"Chloe asleep?" Sam asked after walking in the door and taking off her jacket.  
  
Taking her suitcase, John nodded. "Yeah, she was out like a light not long after you called."  
  
After carrying the bag upstairs, John walked back downstairs to find Sam in the kitchen. "I made some cocoa, want some?"  
  
"Sure," he replied, taking the extra mug.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Sam asked a few minutes later when John stood there silently.  
  
John looked up from where he had been staring at his mug of hot chocolate to look at Sam. "We need to talk."  
  
Sam felt like a fist clenched at her stomach, but managed a nod. "Let's go into the living room, okay?"  
  
John nodded, an held out his free hand. Sitting her mug down on the kitchen table, Sam took his offered hand and followed John into the living room. After sitting down on the couch, John sat his mug on the coffee table and reached up to brush a lock of hair from Sam's face. He took a deep breath before speaking. "I talked to Doctor Thompson yesterday."  
  
Sam nodded, the feeling that she knew where he was headed filled her with dread. "I know, your appointment. What did he say, John?" she asked, watching as he wouldn't meet her gaze made her even more certain that she didn't want to hear the answer.  
  
John swallowed nervously. "I'm sick again," he finally managed to force the words past his lips for the first time since speaking with Doctor Thompson.  
  
Even though she imagined what he would say, she couldn't fight the swell of panic that rose in her throat. Her eyes filled with moisture, but she blinked it away slowly. "So what is he going to do?"  
  
"We have to wait for additional tests to get back," he said, smiling at Sam's stoic response. A moment later, a single tear escaped her eye and John reached up to brush it away. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.  
  
Shaking her head slightly, Sam reached forward and pulled him into a hug. "Don't be sorry," she finally said, her face pressed into his throat. "This was never your fault."  
  
John nodded, but didn't respond right away. Raising his hand to run his fingers through her hair, he closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you."  
  
A half-laugh tore from her throat, and she held him tighter. "I'm not going to let you go that easily, John."  
  
Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head. "I love you."  
  
Holding back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, Sam nodded. "I know."  
  
***  
  
Running into the kitchen, Chloe asked, "Is dinner ready, yet?" When Sam glanced down at her she added, "I'm starving."  
  
"I doubt that," she replied with a half grin. "Why don't you go finish watching the game with John?"  
  
Nodding, Chloe said, "Okay, but the game's almost over."  
  
"That's the wonder of Thanksgiving, Chlo," she said in a conspiratorial whisper. "There's always another football game."  
  
Chloe laughed, and ran back into the living room. After she had gone, Sam sighed. They had decided to wait until after they spoke with Doctor Thompson before telling Chloe, but it was making playing along with the day rather hard. Not for the first time that day, she wondered how John had managed to hide it by himself for so long.  
  
She could hear John and Chloe joking about the football game in the living room, and smiled. He seemed determined to have at least one normal family Thanksgiving. Turning her attention to the dinner, from the outside it looked like everything was perfect. From the inside, however, it was a different story entirely.  
  
***  
  
"So who wants dessert?" Sam asked once they had finished dinner.  
  
Grinning, Chloe replied, "I do!"  
  
Laughing, Sam ruffled her hair. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me, Chlo."  
  
"So what is for dessert?" Chloe asked a moment later.  
  
After Sam picked the desert up from the counter, John grinned. "Uh, this creation would be mine."  
  
"What is it?" Chloe asked, looking over at John.  
  
Shaking his head, and laughing softly, John replied, "It's not exactly Thanksgiving fare, but coconut cream pie is the only dessert I can manage."  
  
Nodding, Chloe glanced over at the pie and back at John. "But how do you know how? I mean, you're not really a cook, after all."  
  
"My mom taught me, actually," he replied. A second later, he reached over and tickled her. "'How do I know,' you act like I can't cook."  
  
"Well," Sam interjected, managing to keep them from upending the pie all over the floor. "She might have a point."  
  
Looking over at Sam, John smiled. "Just be quiet and cut the pie."  
  
"Oh, I think you should do the honors," Sam replied, handing John a knife.  
  
After waiting for John to finish cutting the pie, Chloe took her piece and tasted it cautiously. John couldn't help but think she looked a little like Calvin from the comic strip, without the color changing. "Not so bad, huh?" he asked with a laugh when she grinned.  
  
"Not so bad," she replied, giggling.  
  
Sam smiled. "Maybe you should teach Chloe here how to make it, John."  
  
John glanced at Sam in time to see a flicker of emotion in her eyes, but was distracted when Chloe said, "Really? Like your mom taught you, John?"  
  
Nodding, John laughed. "Sure, kiddo. We'll see how big of a mess we can make," he added with a wink at Sam who just shook her head and smiled.  
  
"When?" Chloe asked, still eating her piece of pie.  
  
John tilted his head to the side and thought for a minute. "Why not tonight? I know we have all of the ingredients already."  
  
"Can we Mom?" Chloe asked, turning to look at Sam.  
  
Sam laughed. "Only if I get to take pictures of this little experiment."  
  
Grinning, Chloe looked up at John. "Cool."  
  
***  
  
"Uh oh," Chloe said with a giggle after covering John's face with flour.  
  
Reaching his hand up, John wiped his face off slowly as he tried not to laugh. "Not exactly what I had in mind."   
  
Having walked out of the kitchen a minute earlier, Sam walked back into the kitchen and stopped in her tracks. Covering her mouth with her hand, she laughed. "Hi, Casper. I hate to say it, but Halloween was last month."  
  
"And you say she picked it up from me," John replied with a grin, rolling his eyes at Sam.  
  
Shrugging, Sam glanced at the floor. Still laughing, she replied, "Apparently she picked up your kitchen skills."  
  
"Yes," John replied with a smirk, gesturing toward the counter. "But at least she managed to make the pie first." Laughing, he ran his hand through her hair, turning it white with flour. "It was just putting everything up that got out of hand."  
  
"That's how it usually happens," Sam replied fighting the urge to sneeze. "At least I took pictures and managed to get the camera out of the line of fire."  
  
Smiling, Chloe asked, "Can I help develop them, Mom?"  
  
Sam laughed, and looked over at John, who was sweeping flour off the floor. "I was thinking maybe John might want to learn how. Want to help me teach him, Chlo?" she asked, winking at Chloe.  
  
"I don't know, Mom," Chloe said, giggling. "He might not get it."  
  
John picked Chloe up from behind. "I'll show you who might not get it, kiddo. But first, you need to put our pie up in the fridge."  
  
"Okay, okay," she said, still giggling. "Just put me down."  
  
Dropping Chloe onto her feet, John replied, "Get to work kid, we're waiting."  
  
Standing off to the side, Sam and John watched while Chloe put the rest of the cooking materials away. "I'm impressed," Sam said with a grin. "You had most of it cleaned up before I came back."  
  
"Well," John replied with a smug grin. "I do know my way around a kitchen just a little bit."  
  
Sam nodded, and looked up into his eyes with a serious expression. "Feel up to developing pictures?"  
  
John glanced over at Chloe, and smiled. Speaking softly, he smiled at Sam. "Just try and stop me." A second later he laughed. "Of course, I might ruin them."  
  
"Definite possibility," Sam said, wrapping an arm around his waist.  
  
Shaking his head, John draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the temple. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he replied dryly.  
  
Chloe had just finished putting everything away when Sam remarked, "Anytime."  
  
***  
  
"Mr. Grant," a nurse said Monday morning. "Doctor Thompson will see you now."  
  
John nodded and stood. When Sam took his hand and squeezed it, he smiled at her softly. "Let's go beat this thing," she said with a half-smile.  
  
Following the nurse, they were led to the familiar office. "Please, have a seat," Doctor Thompson said gesturing at the two chairs. "I'm glad to see you Mrs. Grant." Sam nodded in response, and they each took a seat.   
  
John wasted no time. "So? You couldn't tell me anything before."  
  
Nodding, the doctor replied, "I know, and I'm sorry about that." He paused for a moment. "The results were as I was expecting, I hate to say."  
  
"What does that mean?" John asked, trying to remember to breathe.  
  
Doctor Thompson observed John for a moment and decided to cut directly to the point. "I was correct in my diagnosis that the disease had reappeared. Only this time, it's growing at a much more substantial rate."  
  
Sam titled her head to the side. Glancing at John she asked, "So what do you need to do?"  
  
"That's where a decision must be made," the doctor replied, folding his hands together.  
  
John blinked slowly, and licked his lips nervously. "What decision?"  
  
"Chemotherapy, such as you had before," the doctor explained. "It could still possibly help you."  
  
"Possibly?" Sam asked, sitting up straighter in her chair.  
  
The doctor held up a hand. "Yes, Mrs. Grant. I'm sorry to say that at the rate the lymphoma is progressing, chemotherapy would only be delaying the inevitable." He paused, letting the news set in. "It is my job to present you with all of your options, including one that many of my colleagues would disagree with."  
  
John nodded, feeling eerily calm. "What are my options, Doctor?"  
  
"First, we can go ahead with chemotherapy. Second, you can choose to let the disease take its course."  
  
"How much time would the chemo buy me?" John asked.  
  
The doctor shook his head. "Judging by the state of the disease, not very long."  
  
John nodded, closing his eyes in understanding. "And I would be miserable like before."  
  
Nodding, Doctor Thompson replied, "Possibly worse, because it would be a heavier dosage. You must understand, that this is the recognized treatment. Many doctors would be wary of even discussing otherwise."  
  
"Thank you," John replied honestly.  
  
Thompson smiled weakly. "Why don't you take a couple of days? We can decide what to do next then."  
  
John nodded, and glancing over at Sam, squeezing her hand. "Then we'll see you on Wednesday."  
  
***  
  
"John?" Sam asked after dinner the following night.  
  
Looking up at Sam from where he was sitting on the couch, John asked, "Yeah, Sam?"  
  
Sitting next to him on the couch, she took one of his hands in her own. "I know you've been wanting to play it normal, but we really need to talk."  
  
Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, John nodded. "I know, Sam. I just didn't want to think about it."  
  
Turning enough so that she could look up at his face, Sam cupped his cheek. "I know we're waiting to talk to Chloe, but she's in bed, and you're supposed to give Doctor Thompson your answer tomorrow."  
  
Removing his arm from her shoulders, he took her hand from his cheek and held it. "You heard what he said, Sam. Chemo probably won't really help."  
  
"So you want to let nature run its course."   
  
John closed his eyes for a second, hating the pain he saw in Sam's eyes. "I'd rather be able to enjoy what time I've got left with you and Chloe," he said.   
  
Squeezing her hands, his voice dropped to a whisper. "Rather than make all of us miserable by being doped up."  
  
"John," Sam said, touching his cheek with her hand.  
  
He smiled sadly, and turned just enough to kiss her hand where it rested on his cheek. "Let's just make the most of Christmas, Sam. I don't want Chloe to remember our last Christmas as just chemotherapy."  
  
Blinking slowly, Sam nodded. "I don't want to lose you."  
  
"You know," he said, standing. "I heard this song while I was in Buffalo . . ." He left his statement open-ended and disappeared upstairs. Sam watched, confused, as he walked back down the stairs and over to the stereo. Placing a compact disk into the stereo, he turned the volume down low and pressed play.  
  
Walking over to Sam, he held out a hand. "You once said every couple should dance. Care to join me?"  
  
Smiling, Sam took his hand and stood. "I'd love to."  
  
They were dancing in the middle of the room, Sam's head resting on his chest, when she asked, "What song is this?"  
  
"Something I thought hit pretty close to home when I was up north." Kissing the top of her head, he closed his eyes. "I thought you should hear it."  
  
A moment later, a man's voice cut through the silent living room.  
  
**  
  
Now I must leave  
but before I do  
before the parting shot  
let me look at you.  
  
You've known my mind  
more than anyone  
when all else has past  
this will linger on.  
  
You'll be somewhere in that place where I'll be going.  
You will always be beside me without knowing.  
Every moment you'll be with me  
  
**  
  
John felt Sam take a shuddering breath, and lifted her chin up with his hand. Smiling, he said, "I don't think I've ever seen you cry, Sam. It doesn't suit you."  
  
A smile broke on her face, matched with annoyed laughter. "Stop it, Grant. You're not supposed to cheer me up."  
  
"Yes I am," he said, kissing her briefly. "I didn't play this so that you would be upset. When I first heard it, I thought it was silly in a way." He paused, and smiled at Sam. "But then I changed my mind. You will be with me, Sam."  
  
She nodded, but didn't respond.  
  
**  
  
Life isn't fair  
you'll hear people say  
everyone you love  
time will take away.  
  
But save all your tears  
this is not goodbye  
some things cannot change  
some things cannot die.  
  
**  
  
"Sam?" he asked, his voice a whisper.  
  
She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Thank you."  
  
"For what?" he asked, a confused smile on his face.  
  
Shrugging, she sniffed. "For being everything I never would have imagined when we first met."  
  
***  
  
On Wednesday, Sam and John went to speak once more with Doctor Thompson. It was that night, however, when they finally talked with Chloe.  
  
It was just after dinner when Sam walked into the kitchen and put a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Sweetie, let's leave the dishes for later, okay? John and I want to talk to you about something."  
  
"Must be big," Chloe laughed. "Nothing ever gets us out of dishes."  
  
Sam managed a small smile. "Yeah, baby, it's big."  
  
Placing the plate she was holding into the sink, Chloe walked out of the kitchen and followed Sam into the living room. "Where's John?" she asked after they sat down on the couch.  
  
"He'll be down in just a minute."  
  
In fact, it was less than a minute later when John walked into the living room. When he sat down, but didn't say anything, Chloe looked back and forth between Sam and John. "So, what's up?"  
  
John took a deep breath and held out an arm. "Come here, kiddo." When Chloe was sitting in his lap, he continued. "Remember when I went away earlier this year? How your mom and I told you that I had been sick?"  
  
Chloe nodded, suddenly very serious. "You're not going away again, are you?"  
  
Sam's gaze shifted between Chloe and John. Seeing uncertainty in John's eyes, she said, "John's sick again, sweetie."  
  
Chloe looked up at John, her eyes wide with worry. "Will you be okay?"  
  
John opened his mouth to respond, but closed it and swallowed audibly before he managed to reply. Emotion shook his voice when he said, "Not this time, little one."  
  
Chloe searched John's face. A second later she looked over at her mom and then back at John. "Are you going to die?"  
  
Closing his eyes tightly, John rested his forehead on the top of Chloe's head, holding her close. Sam watched as John fought to keep a handle on his emotions. The entire time, she had not seen his control waiver. It wasn't until talking with Chloe that his emotions were finally getting the better of him.  
  
"I always said I would give everything to you straight," Sam said. Meeting John's eyes, when he nodded imperceptibly, she continued. "Yes, baby, that means John isn't going to get better this time."  
  
Throwing her arms around John's neck, tears filled Chloe's eyes and she whispered, "That's not fair."  
  
Holding her tightly, John felt a single tear trickle down his cheek. "I love you, little one," he whispered, "Very, very much." Glancing up to see tears in Sam's eyes, he closed his own. "Just never forget that."  
  
"I won't." She shook her head, which was pressed against John's neck. "I promise."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Grace," John said, standing in the doorway to Grace's office.  
  
Glancing up from where she was filling out some paperwork, Grace smiled. "Hi, John." Leaning back in her chair, she motioned toward an extra seat. "Is everything okay? I haven't seen you around here since yesterday morning."  
  
Sitting down, John took a deep breath before speaking. "Yeah," he said finally, "I haven't been in long today."  
  
Realizing that he didn't answer his question, Grace looked more closely at John. "There's something you're not getting to," Grace said, studying John's face.  
  
John nodded. "I got some bad news from the doctor last week."  
  
Grace's eyes widened, but softened. She placed her hand on John's hand. "I'm sorry," she said, the words more breath than sound. Swallowing, she asked, "What is Doctor Thompson going to do about it?"  
  
"Nothing," John said, running a hand through his hair. When Grace startled, he continued. "It's progressing too fast this time, Grace. He gave me the option of not taking the chemo."  
  
Grace blinked slowly, letting the news set in. "How are you and Sam doing with this?" she managed to ask a few seconds later.  
  
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Grace," John replied, his gaze steady. "Sam's strong. I've never doubted that. Hell," he said with a laugh. "You know that as well as I do."   
  
He took Grace's hand, which was still resting on his own. "I just want you to make sure that, when the time comes, she doesn't get swallowed up by her strength." He took a deep breath, sure in the fact that he was doing the right thing. "I just want to make sure that someone is there, whether she thinks she needs it or not."  
  
Tears filling her eyes, Grace nodded. "Of course."  
  
Nodding shortly, John said, "Thanks, Grace." He sat motionless for a few moments. "I never wanted to do this to her."  
  
"But?" Grace asked, prompting him to finish his statement.  
  
He half-smiled when he met Grace's gaze. "But I wouldn't give up this past year for anything, Grace. Except maybe not hurting the two of them."  
  
Pulling him into a hug, she held him for a moment before replying. "I happen to believe that Sam feels the same way. Only she wouldn't give it up for anything."  
  
***  
  
"John?" George asked, walking over to John's desk. When John looked up, George looked worried. "Sam said you wanted to talk to me."  
  
Nodding, John stood. "Yeah, I couldn't find you earlier."  
  
"Bailey had me on an errand, strangely enough," George replied. "What's going on?"  
  
Tilting his head to the side, John said, "Let's go to the cafeteria, grab something to drink."  
  
"Okay," George said, confused.  
  
Once they were sitting at a table in the deserted cafeteria, George looked at John, concerned by the dark marks under his friend's eyes. "What's going on, John? I can tell something is up."  
  
"Yeah," John said, exhaling slowly. "Something's up. Believe me, I wish it weren't."  
  
George leaned back in his seat. "You're sick again, aren't you?" he asked, beating John to it.  
  
Nodding, John closed his eyes briefly. "I found out last week."  
  
"Well, you'll beat it again," George said decisively. "You did it before, you'll do it again."  
  
John shook his head slowly. "Not this time, George. Everything is going too fast."  
  
George paled, his eyes wide. "So what are you going to do?"  
  
A faint smile on his face, John replied, "I'm going to enjoy the holiday with my family. After that, I'll just wait and see."  
  
"How's Chloe?" George asked a moment later.  
  
John's smile faded. "She's determined to be strong just like her mom."  
  
"And you?" George questioned, trying to read the emotions in John's blue eyes.  
  
Shrugging, John replied, "Feeling guilty, I suppose."  
  
George smiled. "I can imagine what Sam would say to that."  
  
"Oh boy, can you," John said with a weak laugh. "She'd cream me for sure."  
  
"That's why you two worked so well," George said in reply. "You loosened her up, and she calmed you down."  
  
Standing up, John tossed his drink in a waste bin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, John looked over at George. "Enough of this, we've got work to do."  
  
Standing, George clapped a hand on John's shoulder. "Lead on, my good man."  
  
***  
  
A few days before Christmas, John and Chloe went shopping together. John had been getting weaker, but had been determined to take Chloe to pick out a present for her mom. At the house, Sam found herself in the dark room.  
  
She smiled faintly at the few photographs from Thanksgiving that still rested on hangers. Pulling one down, she looked longingly at the still image: John and Chloe forever captured trying to make a coconut cream pie.  
  
Laying the photo down, she noticed a used roll of film lying on the counter. Picking it up, she looked at it, for some reason she couldn't remember what was on the film. Turning on the overhead red light, she began to work on developing them.  
  
A little while later, she laid the first print into a pan of solution and felt her heart constrict when she saw the image that blurred to life. There before her was one perfect moment in time. The three of them were sitting on a bench on the back porch, laughing on Chloe's birthday.  
  
Blinking away the moisture from her eyes, Sam pulled the next sheet and waited to see what image would await her there. Seeing one of the pictures she had taken that day, of Chloe sitting in John's lap, his chin resting on her head, Sam felt her carefully constructed control slip.  
  
Ever since the night they had danced in the living room, Sam had done her best to distance herself from the slow agony that was tearing at her heart. Although George had told her what John had said, she already knew he felt guilty for something that he had no control over. As a result, she had buried her own anxiety.  
  
The image that reached out to her from the final tray of the development process changed that, at least for the moment. Picking the photo up from the water, she reached out with shaking fingers to trace the lines of the image.  
  
Her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, she clutched the dripping photograph to her chest and leaned against the wall. Sliding down the wall, Sam sat on the floor, her knees pressed to her chest. Still holding the photograph, she finally allowed herself the tears that had been threatening for weeks.  
  
***  
  
Taking a deep breath, John knocked on the door of Bailey's office two days before Christmas. "Enter," Bailey called out from inside the office.  
  
Pushing the door open, John walked in and closed it behind him. "Bailey," John said, standing in front of his desk.  
  
Looking up at the young agent, Bailey saw the paper John was holding. "Is this what I think it is?"  
  
Handing him a form to make it official, John nodded. "After Christmas I won't be back, Bailey."  
  
Bailey looked up at John with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that."  
  
"I'm not happy about it, either," John replied, shaking his head. "But it's time."  
  
Folding his hands together, Bailey leaned back in his chair. "I can't say I understand, but I can try," he said. Taking the form, he signed it. "Go spend the holidays with your family, John. Make the most of it."  
  
"I intend to," John said with a forced smile.  
  
"Good luck, Johnny," Bailey said when John turned to leave.  
  
Nodding, John's eyes softened. "Thanks, Bai."  
  
***  
  
"Time to get up, kiddo," John said early Christmas morning.  
  
Sitting up sleepily, Chloe looked at John in disbelief. "You're up before I am? How'd that happen? And on Christmas no less."  
  
Smiling, John ruffled her hair. "Yep, it's Christmas, but I set my alarm extra early. So get the lead out kid. Time's a wasting."  
  
"Where's Mom?" Chloe asked, getting out of bed.  
  
"She's making breakfast," John replied, leading Chloe into the hallway.  
  
Chloe, more awake, commented, "That's too bad, I was looking forward to scrambled eggs and toast like last year."  
  
John grinned and tickled Chloe. "Be careful what you ask for, kiddo. You got pretty sick of those before."  
  
"It wasn't *so* bad," she said, giggling as she ran down the stairs.  
  
Following her more slowly, John called out, "No running on the stairs, Chloe."  
  
"Yes, sir," she said over her shoulder, slowing down to a fast walk.  
  
Behind her, John merely laughed.  
  
***  
  
When Chloe was almost done opening her presents, Sam pulled two packages from behind the couch. "What's that?" John asked, pointing at the presents.  
  
Sam smiled. "My one little secret."  
  
John raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"  
  
"Yes, really," she replied, her smile wavering for a moment. "This one is for you, Chlo," she said, handing Chloe one of the boxes. "And this one," she added, handing the other to John, "is for you."  
  
Chloe looked up at her mom. "Can I open it?"  
  
Nodding, Sam replied, "Go for it. I think you've exhausted your supply."  
  
Tearing into the wrapping paper, Chloe opened the box to reveal an ornate silver picture frame. Turning the object over, she looked up at John. "It's you and me! On my birthday last summer, I think," she said, showing him the framed photograph.  
  
John smiled faintly, seeing the captured image. "That's great, kiddo." Looking over at Sam, he asked, "A picture?"  
  
Nodding, she gestured to the package he was holding. "Why don't you open yours?"  
  
"Okay," he replied, tearing into the paper similar to the method Chloe had used. Sam always smiled watching him open presents in such a fashion. A moment later, he pulled a sturdy wooden picture frame from the box.   
  
"Sam?" he asked, after turning the frame over to see the photo of the three of them from Chloe's birthday. In the candid picture, they were laughing, and Sam had leaned her forehead on the side of John's head.  
  
After watching John's reaction, Sam took a sip out of her coffee cup. "Do you like it?" she asked, trying to gauge his reaction.  
  
He looked up from the photograph, smiling with soft eyes. "I love it."  
  
"I want to see," Chloe said, climbing up onto the couch between Sam and John.  
  
Laughing, John angled the frame where Chloe could see the picture. "What do you think, kiddo? Am I photogenic or what?"  
  
Sam blinked when Chloe smiled. "I always thought you were handsome."  
  
"Even before your mom did?" he asked, winking at Sam, who was busy trying to memorize the interaction.  
  
Chloe glanced over at Sam and giggled. "Way before then."  
  
***  
  
"Good night, little one," John said, kissing Chloe on the nose. When she smiled, he asked, "Did you have a good day?"  
  
Chloe's smile brightened. "Best Christmas ever."  
  
Laughing, John tucked the blanket in tighter around her. "I'm glad. Now, it's time for you to go to sleep."  
  
Nodding, Chloe glanced up at where Sam was standing beside John, her hand on his shoulder. "Good night, Mom. Love you."  
  
Taking John's hand the two of them walked toward the door. "I love you, too, Chlo," she said, smiling.  
  
"John?" Chloe asked just before they could shut the door.  
  
Walking back across the room, he asked, "Yes, kiddo?"  
  
"I'll remember my promise," she said. She was almost asleep when she mumbled, "Forever."  
  
Blinking back tears, John kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you, little one."  
  
Joining Sam back in the hallway, they walked back downstairs and sat in front of the fire. "How are you feeling?" Sam asked a few minutes later.  
  
Brushing a lock of hair away from her face, John rested his hand on her cheek. "Tired, but I'm used to that by now."  
  
Sam blinked and nodded. "Did you talk with Bailey?"  
  
"A couple of days ago," he replied.  
  
Turning to rest her head on his shoulder, they leaned back until they were resting against the couch. "John," she said a few seconds later, "I've been wanting to talk to you about something."  
  
"Anything," John replied, shifting so that he could see her face.  
  
Looking up into his eyes, Sam swallowed before saying, "I know that you've been feeling guilty about what's happened . . ."  
  
"George and his big mouth . . ." John muttered, interrupting Sam.  
  
Placing a finger over his mouth, Sam continued. "Yes, George may have said something to me, but I'm not blind John. I know you better than you might like at times. I know when you're upset, and this time I didn't let myself overlook it."  
  
Shaking his head, John pulled Sam's hand away from his mouth. "You don't need to worry about that, Sam."  
  
"Yes, I do," she said directly. "You're being sick is bad enough, I don't want to see you make yourself miserable on top of it. It's not your fault, so stop feeling guilty."  
  
"I wish it was that easy, Sam," he whispered.  
  
Nodding, Sam ran her hand through his hair. "It can be, if you let it. A smart guy once said something similar to me when I was feeling guilty about something I couldn't control."  
  
"What about you?" John asked, searching her eyes. "When will you let yourself feel? I can see you locking everything away."  
  
Sam shook her head. "Because this isn't about me."  
  
"That's bull, Sam, and you know it," John replied. Taking her hand, he kissed it. "This is as much about you and Chloe as it is me." His voice was hoarse with emotion. "You're the ones who have to live with it."  
  
Sam's eyes filled with tears, and she leaned her forehead against his cheek. Whispering, she said, "But you're the one who has to die with it."  
  
Wrapping his arms around her, John felt a tear slide down his cheek. "Let me be here for you while I can Sam," he said eventually. "Maybe it will help us both."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sam leaned back and John gently wiped the moisture from her cheek. She smiled when she said, "Somewhere along the line, I lost the ability to see the world without you in it."  
  
He kissed her softly before replying. "I'll be there as long as you want me to be, Sam." Placing his hand over her heart, he half-laughed when he said, "It may be hokey, but I'll always be a memory away."  
  
She nodded, but as she touched his cheek she replied, "You can't touch a memory." When he didn't reply right away, she wrapped a hand behind his neck and pulled him into a long kiss.  
  
"Live in the moment, Sam," he said when the kiss ended. "Let tomorrow take care of itself."  
  
***  
  
Sitting in the doctor's office, Sam and John waited for Doctor Thompson to come in and discuss his latest test results a few days after Christmas.  
  
Walking into his office, the doctor sat down behind his desk. "Hello again," he said, nodding to Sam.  
  
Sam smiled politely, but it was John who spoke. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? How much longer do I have?"  
  
"It's not an exact science," the doctor reminded him. When John sighed impatiently, he relented. "Judging by what I'm seeing in your latest test, it won't be long now. Maybe a month on the outside." John didn't blink, and Sam squeezed his hand tightly. "I'm sorry," Doctor Thompson added in almost a whisper.  
  
"Can you do what we talked about?" John asked.  
  
Rubbing his eyes, the doctor nodded. "I can make it possible for you to stay at home, and avoid examination after . . ." he paused, glancing at Sam and John, "afterwards."  
  
John nodded, and Sam replied, "Thank you, doctor."  
  
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Doctor Thompson asked.  
  
"I can handle a little pain," John argued.  
  
The doctor shook his head, "You know this isn't a little pain we're talking about, John. Buffalo was a walk in the park compared to what this will be."  
  
"Is there anything you can give him that won't affect his awareness?" Sam asked, glancing over at John before looking back at Doctor Thompson.  
  
Nodding, Doctor Thompson replied, "We can work something out. If," he added, "you're willing to administer it, Mrs. Grant." When Sam nodded, he said, "Nurse Simmons will be able to show you how to control the at home medication machine."  
  
"Sam . . ." John said, looking over at her.  
  
Shaking her head, Sam replied, "No buts, John." Looking at John, her tone softened. "This is something I want to do, if you'll let me."  
  
After a moment, John nodded curtly. "Let's do it then."  
  
***  
  
The new year was barely a week old, but Sam was already about to drop. Hearing a knock on the front door, she walked downstairs. "Hey, George," Sam said, holding the front door open so that George could walk inside the house.  
  
Nodding, George looked at Sam. "You look tired," he said softly.  
  
Sam rubbed a hand over her eyes. "That's the thing," she said with a yawn. "You would think after being a forced insomniac for so many years, that I would be used to not getting much sleep."  
  
"Come here," he said, pulling Sam into a hug. When he let go, he looked into her eyes. "How's John?"  
  
She shook her head. "Not great." She paused and walked into the living room. She half-laughed before saying, "Although he's doing a good job of not showing it."  
  
"That's our John," George said softly.  
  
Sam nodded, and then shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't think to ask if you wanted anything to drink."  
  
"Don't worry about that," George replied, "I'm a big boy." Leading her to the couch, he asked, "What if I got something for you? Tea? Hot chocolate? Scotch on the rocks?" he added the last as a joke and smiled when Sam rolled her eyes.  
  
Relaxing on the couch, Sam sighed. "There's some iced tea in the refrigerator. If you don't mind . . ."  
  
"Consider it done," he said before disappearing into the kitchen.  
  
A few moments later he walked back into the living room, carrying two glasses of tea, only to discover that Sam had dozed off. Placing the drinks on coasters, he pulled an afghan over Sam and walked up the stairs.  
  
Knocking softly on the door, George waited a second before walking into the bedroom. "Hey, buddy," he said, crossing the room.  
  
John grinned and gestured around the room. "Would you believe I finally have more connections than your computer?"  
  
"I'd believe it," George said with a laugh as he took the seat next to the bed.  
  
A few silent seconds passed before John commented, "I don't know how people do it, George."  
  
"Do what?" he asked, not following his meaning.  
  
John fidgeted slightly. "Sit around all the time. I'm bored to tears here."  
  
George grinned. "Well, you never one to sit still."  
  
"Yeah," John replied. "And now I have to just *lay* here." He took a breath before adding in a whisper, "And what's worse is Sam has to just sit by and watch."  
  
George nodded, all traces of his smile gone. "Well, at the moment, she's asleep on the couch downstairs."  
  
Relief washed over John's features. "Good, I'm glad. She's determined to do everything herself."  
  
"That's why I'm here," George replied. "Thought an extra pair of hands might help."  
  
His eyes drifting shut as his medication kicked in, John smiled. "Thanks, George."  
  
"Anytime, buddy," George replied, leaning back in the chair.  
  
***  
  
When Sam woke up, at first she was disoriented to find herself curled up under a blanket on the couch. Glancing around the room, she saw two watered down glasses of iced tea and remembered George's visit.  
  
Standing, she stretched her arms over her head and walked up stairs. Walking into the bedroom, she smiled. "Hello again, George."  
  
George startled slightly, and turned around to face Sam. "Hi, Sam. Have a nice nap?"  
  
Nodding, she squeezed his shoulder and replied, "Thanks, I needed it." Looking over at John, she asked, "Has he been asleep the whole time?"  
  
"Off and on," George replied, looking at his friend. "But mostly, yeah, he's pretty worn out."  
  
She managed a short laugh. "He would hate that." Sam sobered when she added, "But I don't think either one of us could have handled the alternative."  
  
"Here," George said, standing up and gesturing toward the chair. "Have a seat."  
  
Smiling, she sat down. "Thanks." Taking John's hand, she didn't say anything more.  
  
"Where's Chloe?" George asked a few moments later.  
  
Glancing up at George, Sam rubbed a hand over her eyes. "She's out with Grace. She wants to be here with John, but it was getting to be too much for her."  
  
"She's a great kid, Sam," George said with a smile.  
  
Nodding, Sam replied, "I know. She's been great the whole time. She wants to help with anything she can." Sam glanced at John before adding, "She's been through so much. She just tries to forget that she's still a little girl sometimes."  
  
"And what about you?" George asked with a concerned glance at Sam.  
  
Sam shrugged in reply. "I'm doing whatever I can to make it easier on them."  
  
George kneeled next to Sam. "And what about you?" When she glanced at him, not comprehending, he explained. "You know what John would say to that statement."  
  
"I know," she said with a sad nod. Rubbing her eyes, she added, "I just wish he was healthy enough to stop me."  
  
***  
  
Grace brought Chloe home the next day. George, who had come back over that morning, took Chloe outside while Sam and Grace talked.   
  
"How are you doing?" Grace asked, following Sam upstairs.  
  
Sam smiled, but the emotion didn't reach her eyes. "I'll survive."  
  
"How's John doing?" she asked, standing just outside the bedroom.  
  
Sam blinked several times, willing herself not to cry. "Not good." She paused, and took a deep breath before continuing. "He's in a lot of pain. He won't show it, but I can tell."  
  
"What about the pain killers Doctor Thompson prescribed?" Grace asked softly.  
  
"The ones he refuses to take hardly any of?" Sam laughed humorlessly, and leaned against the wall. "They help some, but he wants to be coherent. Doctor Thompson has finally resorted to morphine. Morphine and coherent don't work together, do they?"  
  
Grace laid her hand on Sam's shoulder. "Why don't you go and spend some time with Chloe?"  
  
Shaking her head vehemently, her voice only managing a whisper, Sam replied, "I can't."  
  
"Sam . . ." Grace said, trying to reason with her.  
  
Glancing over at the door, Sam took a shaky breath, and added, "I have to be there when . . ." Stopping in mid-sentence, she met Grace's gaze. Sam wiped angrily at the moisture on her cheeks and tried to explain. "When it's over, Grace. I have to be the one to be there."  
  
"Okay," Grace said, pulling Sam into a hug. "Let's see how John is doing, maybe Chloe can come upstairs and talk to him for a little while."  
  
Nodding, a flicker of a real smile crossed her face. "He'd like that."  
  
Grace smiled. "You're right."  
  
Sam wiped the remainder of the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath before opening the door.  
  
When he heard the door open, John glanced over at the doorway. Seeing Sam, he commented, "Hey there, you."  
  
Smiling, Sam walked over and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. Brushing an unruly curl off of his forehead, she kissed his forehead. "How are you feeling?"  
  
Hiding a wince, he replied, "No different than the last few dozen times you asked." Managing a smile he looked over at Grace. "Can you please convince her to take a break?"  
  
"Sorry, John," Grace replied with a smile. "You should know better than that."  
  
Taking Sam's hand, John looked up into her eyes. "Why don't you go and play with Chloe?"  
  
Shaking her head, she bit her lip before replying. "Nope. You're stuck with me." She sat there for a moment, just looking in his eyes before adding, "Although, I'm sure she would love to see you. What do you think? Are you up to it?"  
  
"For the kiddo?" John asked, his voice strained. "I'm always up for it."  
  
Behind them, Grace said, "I'll go get her, okay?"  
  
John met Grace's eyes for a moment and nodded shortly. "Thanks, Grace," he whispered before looking back up at Sam.  
  
Once Grace had walked out of the room, Sam leaned down and kissed him gently. "I love you," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She rested her forehead on his for a moment.  
  
"Sam?" he asked, and she pulled back so she could look at his face. Carefully he raised his hand so it rested on her cheek. "I love you, too," he said finally.  
  
A moment later, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Sam said, standing up.  
  
"Mom?" Chloe asked, sticking her head in the room.  
  
"Hi, sweetie," Sam said with a smile. "Come on over," she added, holding out her hand.  
  
Behind Chloe, Bailey stood in the hallway. "Sam," he said with a nod. He turned his gaze to John and smiled weakly. "John, I don't know how you do it."  
  
"Do what?" John asked with a small grin.  
  
"Keep the attention of these two all to yourself," Bailey replied, standing next to Sam.  
  
Watching as Chloe walked slowly across the room, John smiled. "Well, it's a tough job."  
  
Managing a strained laugh, Bailey commented, "I'm sure it is." He paused and glanced over at Sam. "Can I steal this one for a minute, John?"  
  
"Only if you force her to eat something," John said, trying to keep his tone light.  
  
Taking Sam by the elbow, he led her from the room. "I believe you heard the man, Sam."  
  
After they closed the door behind them, John focused on Chloe. "Come over here, kiddo," he said with a smile.  
  
"I missed you," she said in a small voice once she was standing next to his bed.  
  
"I missed you, too," he replied. A second later he asked, "Would you pull that chair up to the edge of the bed?"  
  
She looked at him curiously. "Okay." She then proceeded to maneuver the chair.  
  
When she was done, John continued. "Now, climb up in it and you can sit on the edge of the bed."  
  
"Will it not hurt you?" Chloe asked, looking up at John with absolute trust in her eyes.  
  
Shaking his head as best he could, John replied, "Nah, I'm tough. Now get up here, kiddo."  
  
Grinning, Chloe climbed up in the chair and was soon sitting next to John. When John sucked in a quick breath, Chloe said, "See, I thought it would hurt you."  
  
"Doesn't matter," John said with a straight face. Giving her arm a light squeeze, he said, "I'm just glad you're here."  
  
Chloe nodded. "Me, too." A moment later she looked over at the bedside table. "That's our picture that Mom gave you."  
  
John glanced at the framed photo as best he could and smiled. "How could I forget your birthday?"  
  
"It was fun, wasn't it?" Chloe asked, a small smile on her face.  
  
Nodding, John replied, "It sure was, kiddo."  
  
"That seems like so long ago," she said in a small voice. She lowered her head, but didn't say anything more.  
  
"What is it, little one?" John asked a moment later.  
  
Chloe looked up from where she had been staring at the covers. Looking into John's eyes, her lower lip quivering, she asked, "How much longer are you going to be with me and Mom?"   
  
John could feel tears burning the corners of his eyes, and he blinked before answering her. "Forever, in a way, little one."  
  
"As long as I keep my promise?" she asked, her blue eyes hopeful.  
  
Smiling, John sniffed. "Even longer."  
  
Biting her lower lip, she hesitated before asking, "Can I give you a hug?"  
  
"I'd be hurt if you didn't," he whispered.  
  
Carefully, Chloe leaned over and wrapped her arms around John's neck. One hand on Chloe's back, John guided it so that her cheek was lying on his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you," Chloe said, sniffing around the words.  
  
Chloe sat up a little, and John tilted his head just enough to kiss her on the nose. "Just remember that I didn't want to go, okay, little one? I'd never leave you intentionally."  
  
"I know," Chloe said, nodding. Having sat up completely, she leaned forward she gave him a kiss on the cheek. She then sat there for a second, looking at her hands. When she looked up, she said, "I don't remember my real dad that much anymore."  
  
"Chloe . . ." John said, his voice weak.  
  
She shook her head, and John couldn't help but think she looked just like her mom. "And I know you're not him, but . . ." She paused, and wiped the back of her hand over her cheek, "In a way you are my dad, John."  
  
John looked at her, smiling faintly. "You don't have to say that, little one."  
  
"I want to," she said, sniffing. In a quiet voice, she continued. "I know Daddy is in heaven, but I hope he wouldn't mind if I called you dad, too."  
  
John's eyes filled with tears, and he smiled. "You're the best daughter anyone could ask for," he replied, blinking quickly. "Do you know that, kiddo?"  
  
Chloe took one of John's hands in both of hers. "I love you," she said eventually. Repeating his words from before, she added, "Just never forget that."  
  
Squeezing her hands, John's eyes were bright. "I won't. I promise."  
  
***  
  
Standing up from where Grace, George and Bailey had cornered her at the kitchen table, Sam said, "I really should get back up there."  
  
Grace nodded. "Okay, I'll come with you."  
  
Relenting, Sam agreed. Looking at George and Bailey, she said, "You two don't have to stay here if you don't want to."  
  
"That's not a question, Sam," George said.   
  
Bailey agreed with George. "We're where we need to be, Sammy."  
  
Not wanting to argue, Sam turned and walked out of the room. Close behind her, Grace followed her upstairs. They arrived outside the bedroom door in time to hear the last part of Chloe and John's conversation.  
  
After a few minutes of listening to the quiet discussion, both Sam and Grace had tears in their eyes. "Go on, Sam," Grace said a few moments later, when the conversation inside was apparently over.  
  
Nodding, Sam knocked on the door and went inside. Grace, for her part, walked back downstairs to wait with George and Bailey.  
  
"How are you two doing up here?" Sam asked after closing the door.  
  
Both Chloe and John smiled. "We were just having a chat, right, kiddo?" John said a second later.  
  
Chloe nodded, but it was Sam who spoke next. "Why don't you climb down from there and let John get some rest, okay, Chlo?"  
  
"Okay," she said, her voice low. Just before walking through the door, Chloe turned and walked back to the bed. "Will I see you again?"  
  
John thought about what he should say, but settled for being honest. "I hope so, little one."  
  
Sam flinched at the finality in his words, and Chloe nodded, chewing on her lower lip to keep from crying. "I hope so, too," she replied. "But if not," she added, being as grownup as she could manage. She stood on tiptoe kissed his cheek, and whispered into his ear. "I love you, Dad."  
  
"I promise, little one," he whispered. "Forever."  
  
As Chloe walked out of the room, Sam struggled with her emotions. "You really think you just said goodbye," she said a few moments later, looking at John with tears in her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, Sam . . ." he said, hating the sadness he saw on her face.  
  
"Don't," she said, a harsh edge to her voice, "be sorry." Leaning over, she kissed him and lowered her voice. "Just be here."  
  
John closed his eyes and nodded. "For as long as I can."  
  
***  
  
The next time Sam went downstairs, it was the following morning. In the living room, Grace, George and Bailey sat, each wearing the same clothes they had on the day before.  
  
"Sam?" Grace asked, standing.  
  
Looking around, she asked, "Where's Chlo?"  
  
George stood. "She's still asleep, Sam."  
  
"Were you here all night?" Sam asked, rubbing a hand over her eyes and through her hair.  
  
It was Bailey who nodded, saying, "Don't worry about us, Sam. How's John?"  
  
Sam shook her head, the lost look in her eyes conveying more than the words she couldn't manage to voice.  
  
Suddenly alert, George hesitated in asking, "Is he . . ."  
  
"No," Sam said, shaking her head, and clenching her fists at her sides. "Not yet. But he did ask to speak with each of you."  
  
"Are you sure?" Bailey asked, standing a few feet away.  
  
Nodding, Sam replied, "It's what he wants. Go on upstairs, Bailey," she added, pointing toward the stairs.  
  
With one last look at Sam, Bailey sat his coffee cup down and disappeared up the stairs.  
  
Sam dropped down on to the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. "Sam?" Grace asked, sitting on one side of her. Before she responded, George sat on the other. "Are you still with us?" she asked, trying again.  
  
"I'm fine," Sam said, not moving.  
  
"No," Grace said softly. "You're not."  
  
Although she shook her head, Sam's shoulders started shaking. "It's not fair, Grace. This wasn't supposed to happen like this."  
  
"I know, sweetie," Grace said, pulling her into a hug. "I know," she repeated.  
  
***  
  
During the day, each of the team members took turns talking to and sitting with John. That night, after Chloe had gone home with Grace, Sam sent the other team members home.  
  
"It's just you and me now," Sam said, forcing a smile.  
  
John looked at her through lowered lids, too tired to even open his eyes all the way. "Looks like it," he managed to say with a half-grin.  
  
When he hadn't been looking, Sam had turned the pain medication machine up to the dosage that the doctor had originally prescribed. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice a whisper.  
  
"I'm fine, Sam," he said, his voice slurring. A few minutes later, he asked, "Did everyone leave?"  
  
Sam nodded. "Yeah, finally."  
  
When John gasped sharply instead of replying, Sam closed her eyes tightly. Without thinking, she crawled up in the bed next to John. "Hey, beautiful," he said a moment later. "If I knew that was all it would take to get you into bed," he paused, clenching his teeth when another wave of pain passed over him. "I'd have done it a long time ago," he finished, somewhat breathless.  
  
Wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead, Sam smiled. "What can I say, I was always a sucker for those blue eyes of yours."  
  
"Sam?" he asked, the consciousness in those eyes fading before her eyes.  
  
Blinking away the ever-present tears, she nodded. "What, John?"  
  
He raised a clumsy hand to rest on her cheek, and smiled faintly as he whispered, "Don't forget our song." Taking a steadying breath, he added, "You'll be with me."  
  
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Sam placed her hand over John's and held it against her cheek. Managing a faint smile, she kissed him, a long, gentle kiss. Breaking the contact, whispered in his ear, "You'll be with me, too."  
  
Fresh tears slipped from her eyes as she saw the hint of a smile in his tired blue eyes. Brushing his hair back, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead softly. When she pulled back, she could see the faint remorse in his eyes and she whispered the words that broke her heart.   
  
"It's okay, John. Just let go."  
  
Their eyes met for a final time, and each was filled with an unquestionable love for the other. His eyelids having grown heavy finally dropped slowly closed.  
  
As she listened, John's struggling breathing was the only sound in the room. Sam wasn't sure how long she sat there, holding him when his breathing slowed and finally stopped. Holding him tighter, she rocked back and forth, running her hands through his hair.  
  
Kissing the top of his head, a sob wracked her frame as her tears continued to fall. "You'll be with me, John." Closing her eyes, she pressed her face against the side of his. In a voice, not even a whisper, she added, "Always."  
  
  
The End  
  
  
  
bet you thought it would never end. In fact, if you made it this far *please* email me and let me know. This story has been my one focal point writing wise, pretty much, for three weeks now. Let me know if it was worthwhile.  
  
Thank you,  
kaly  
razrbkr@juno.com  
  
  
Song Credit:  
"You'll Be With Me"  
performed by: Lawrence Gowan  
published by: sorry I don't know :-)  
  
Other Credits (this is pretty much every thing I can remember even being mentioned):  
  
again, I'm making no money, just borrowing for a bit! If I did own any of these, would I be writing fanfic? :-)  
  
Star Wars: the one and only George Lucas owns this wonderful creation! Go George!  
Little Women: uh, I'm not sure. Although, by all rights and means, it's Louisa May Alcott's. :)  
Titanic: this goes to Paramount and 20 th Century Fox.  
Steel Magnolias: the weepy movie of all time, but I don't know the company.  
Dragonheart: isn't that Universal? That sound right, at least.  
Super Soakers aren't mine either *l*  
Disney parade: that would be property of the mouse  
  
And lastly. I apologize for any and all medical inaccuracies. I did research non-Hodgkin's lymphoma to an extent, but the information I gathered was mostly on treatment and diagnosis - not the long term effect.  



End file.
